Logic, or, The art of thinking : being the Port-Royal logic

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LOGIC

THE ART OF THINKING:

BEING

THE POUT-ROYAL LOGIC

TRANSLATED
FROM THE FRENCH, WITH AN INTRODUCTION,

BY

THOMAS SPENCER BAYNES.

EDINBURGH:

SUTHERLAND AND KNOX, GEORGE STREET.
LONDON: SIMPKIN, MARSHALL AND (

MDCCCL.

\

.MURRAY AND GIBB, PRINTKKS, EDINBURGH.

TO

SIR WILLIAM HAMILTON, BARONET

MEMBER OF THE INSTITUTE OF FRANCE, ETC., ETC.

PROFESSOR OF LOGIC AND METAPHYSICS

IN THE UNIVERSITY OF EDINBURGH,

THIS TRANSLATION

IS, AS A MARK OF RESPECT.

DEDICATED,

BY HIS GRATEFUL PUPIL

THE TRANSLATOR.

I DAT? .APR0 ? 1QR7

TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE.

No apology is needful for the Port-Royal Logic. The
Translation of a work of such high repute and sterling ex
cellence, if at all faithful, must needs be useful. It is
especially likely to be so, now that a revival of interest in
logical studies has commenced, since, from its freshness ot
thought, and variety of illustration, it is better adapted to
meet the wants of inquirers, and foster the awakened
interest, than most other works on the subject.

It will be right, however, to say a few words in relation
to the circumstances under which the present translation
is published. It was begun somewhat more than a year
ago, but wholly laid aside soon after its commencement,
and only hastily resumed within the last few weeks, in
order that it might be carried through the press in time
for college use during the present winter, so that the whole
has been printed, and more than a third part translated,
since the commencement of the session. In consequence
of this haste, it appears in a much more imperfect form
than I could have wished. I have been unable, for in
stance, to add illustrative notes, which the work in

VI PREFACE.

many places requires, and, throughout, well deserves. The
materials for these had been in great part collected, but
it was impossible to prepare them in time for the present
edition. It has suffered, too, I cannot but fear, in
other ways, from the haste with which it has been pre
pared. After all, however, the book must be judged of
by what it is, not by what it was intended to be ; and, even
in its present form, I hope it may be found useful to the
students of Logic.

In reference to the translation itself, I may say, that the
only virtues which have been aimed at are those of clear
ness and correctness. I dare not say that even these have
always been attained ; but anything like elegance has
certainly never been attempted. The translation is not
designed for accomplished logicians. All who have paid
much attention to Logic will be already quite familiar with
it in the original. It was undertaken mainly for the
benefit of students, and is designed for academical use ;
and, with this end in view, the virtues of plainness and
faithfulness are of the first account. There will be found
here and there some expressions which are quaint, and
almost antiquated. These, I have neither, on the one
hand, affected, nor, on the other, superstitiously avoided,
when they seemed to offer a plainer and more pointed
rendering of the original. The literalities, too, are some
times awkward — such as "justness of mind," (justesse de
Fesprit) — but they will generally, it is hoped, be found
significant; and if a little strangeness in the expression
should tend to fix attention on the thought, they will do
good rather than harm.

It is necessary, also, to say something about the use of

PREFACE.

italics throughout the book. This has not always been
consistent. It was intended that the definitions and more
important illustrations should be thus distinguished, in
order that the attention of students might be called at once
to the more important parts, and that these being thus
printed in a different character might form a kind of ab
stract of the book. This, though carried out to a con
siderable extent, has not, however, been always attended
to. At first, too, the old-fashioned plan of printing the
quotations in italics was adopted, but these were found too
numerous, and too unimportant, to merit this distinction,
and the practice was accordingly subsequently abandoned.
In conclusion, I have only to return my best thanks to
Sir William Hamilton, to whose kind encouragement this
translation is mainly due, and to whom I am indebted in
so many ways. No expression, indeed, of my obligations
to Sir William Hamilton can be too full ; and the only
regret I feel in making this acknowledgment is, that his
name should be associated with a work so exceedingly

imperfect.

TIIOS. S. BAYNKS.

EDINBURGH, 1, ALV.V STREET,
January, 1850.

CONTENTS.

Page

INTRODUCTION BY TRANSLATOR, xv

Author's Advertisement to First Edition, xli

Author's Advertisement to Fifth Edition, - xliii
DISCOURSE I. — In which the Design of this New Logic is set

forth, I

DISCOURSE II. — Containing a Reply to the Principal Objec
tions which have been made against this Logic, 1 ~2
INTRODUCTION, 25

PART FIRST.

CONTAINING REFLECTIONS ox IDKAS, on ON THE FIRST

OPERATION OF THE MIND, WHICH is CALLED CONCEIVING, 27

CHAP. I. — Of Ideas in relation to their Nature and Origin. 28

CHAP. II. — Of Ideas in relation to their Objects, - - 35

CHAP. III.— Of the Ten Categories of Aristotle, 38

CHAP. IV.— Of Ideas of Things and Signs, - 42

CHAP. V. — Of Ideas in relation to their Simplicity or Com
position, in which the method of Knowing by Abstraction
or Precision is considered, 44

CHAP. VI. — Of Ideas, considered in relation to their Gene
rality, Particularity, and Singularity, - 47
CHAP. VII. — Of the five kinds of Universal Ideas — Genus,

Species, Difference, Property, Accident, - 50

CHAP. VIII. — Of Complex Terms, and their Universality or

Particularity, .">5

CHAP. IX. — Of the Clearness and Distinctness of Ideas, and
their Obscurity and Confusion, - til

X CONTENTS.

Page

CHAP. X. — Some examples of Obscure and Confused Ideas

taken from Morals, - 68

CHAP. XI. — Of another cause which introduces Confusion
into our Thoughts and Discourses, which is, that we attach
them to Words, - - 75

CHAP. XII. — On the Remedy of the Confusion which arises
in our Thoughts and in our Language, from the Confusion
of Words, in which the necessity and the advantage of de
fining the terms we employ, and the difference between the
definition of Things and the definition of Names, is ex
plained, - - - 78

CHAP. XIII. — Important Observations in relation to the De
finition of Names, - - 83

CHAP. XIV. — Of another sort of Definition of Names, through
which their Ordinary Signification is denoted, - - 86

CHAP. XV. — Of Ideas which the Mind adds to those which
are expressly signified by Words, - 9«'J

SECOND PART.

CONTAINING THE REFLECTIONS WHICH MEN HAVE MADE ON
THEIK JUDGMENTS, - 97

CHAP. I. — Of Words in their relation to Propositions, - 97

CHAP. II Of the Verb, - - 10.3

CHAP. III. — Of what is meant by a Proposition, and of Four

Kinds of Propositions, - - 108

CHAP. IV. — Of the opposition between Propositions having
the same Subject and Attribute, - 112

CHAP. V. — Of Simple and Compound Propositions — that
there are some Simple Propositions which appear Com- •
pound, and which are not so, but may be called Complex.
Of those which are Complex in the Subject, or in the At
tribute, - 114

CHAP. VI. — Of the Nature of Incidental Propositions which
form part of Complex Propositions, - 117

CHAP. VII.— Of the Falsity that may be met with in Com
plex Terms and Incidental Propositions, - - - 120

CONTENTS. XI

Page

CHAP. VIII. — Of Complex Propositions in relation to Affir
mation and Negation, and of a species of these kinds of
Propositions which Philosophers call Modals, - - 1 24

CHAP. IX. — Of different kinds of Compound Propositions, - 1-27

CHAP. X. — Of Propositions which are Compound in Meaning, 1 34

CHAP. XI. — Observations for the purpose of discovering the
Subject and the Attribute in certain Propositions expressed
in an unusual manner, - 14 i

CHAP. XII — Of Confused Subjects which are equivalent to

Two Subjects, - 143

CHAP. XIII. — Other Observations for the purpose of finding

out whether Propositions are Universal or Particular, - 147

CHAP. XIV. — Of Propositions in which the Name of Things

is given to Signs, - - 154

CHAP. XV. — Of Two Kinds of Propositions which are of
great use in the Sciences — Division and Definition. And
firstly, of Division, - 101'

CHAP. XVI. — Of the Definition which is termed the Defini
tion of Things, - - lfJ3

CHAP. XVII. — Of the Conversion of Propositions, in which
the nature of Affirmation and Negation, on which this Con
version depends, is more thoroughly explained. And first,
touching the nature of Affirmation, 167

CHAP. XVIII. — Of the Conversion of Affirmative Proposi
tions, iG'*

CHAP. XIX. — Of the nature of Negative Propositions, 172

CHAP. XX. — Of the Conversion of Negative Propositions, • 1 73

THIRD PART.

OF REASONING, 175

CHAP. I. — Of the nature of Reasoning, and of the different

kinds of it which may be distinguished, - - 17t>

CHAP. II. — Division of Syllogisms into Simple and Conjunc
tive, and of Simple into Complex and Incomplex,

CHAP. III. — General Rules of Simple Incomplex Syllogism:-, lt»o

CHAP. IV. — Of the Figures and Modes of Syllogisms in gene
ral. — That there cannot be more than Four Figures, - 186

ill CONTENTS.

Page

CHAP. V. — Rules, Moods, and Principles of the First Figure, 1 89

CHAP. VI. — Rules, Moods, and Principles of the Second

Figure, - - 192

CHAP. VII. — Rules, Moods, and Principles of the Third
Figure, - 195

CHAP. VIII,— Of the Moods of the Fourth Figure, - - 198

CHAP. IX. — Of Complex Syllogisms, and the way in which
they may be reduced to Common Syllogisms, and judged
of by the same rules, - 201

CHAP. X. — A General Principle, by which, without any re
duction to Figures and Modes, we may judge of the Ex
cellence or Defect of any Syllogism, - 208

CHAP. XI. — Application of this General Principle to many
Syllogisms which appeared to be involved, - 211

CHAP. XII. — Of Conjunctive Syllogisms, - - 215

CHAP. XIII — Of Syllogisms whose conclusion is conditional, 220

CHAP. XIV. — Of Enthymemes and of Enthymematic Sen
tences, - - 224

CHAP. XV. — Of Syllogisms composed of more than Three

Propositions, - 226

CHAP. XVI.— Of Dilemmas, 228

CHAP. XVII. — Places, or the Method of Finding Arguments.
— That this method is of little use, - 231

CHAP. XVIII. — Division of Places into those of Grammar,

of Logic, and of Metaphysics, - - 236

CHAP. XIX, — Of the different ways of Reasoning 111, which

are called Sophisms, - - 242

CHAP. XX. — Of the Bad Reasonings which are common in
Civil Life and in Ordinary Discourse, - - 261

FOURTH PART.

OF METHOD, - 293

CHAP. I. — Of Knowledge — that there is such a thing. — That
the things which we know by the Mind are more certain
than those which we know by the Senses. — That there are
things which the Human Mind is incapable of knowing. —
The useful account to which we may turn this necessary
ignorance, - - 293

CONTENTS. xiii

Page

CHAP. II.— Of the two kinds of Method— Analysis and Syn
thesis. — Example of Analysis, - - . 302
CHAP. IH._Of the Method of Composition, and particularly

of that which the Geometers observe, - - - 310

CHAP. IV.— More particular exposition of these Rules ; and,

in the first place, of those which relate to definitions, - 312
CHAP. V — That the Geometers do not appear always to have
rightly understood the difference which exists between the
definition of Words and the definition of Things, - - 317

CHAP. VI.— Of the Rules which relate to Axioms,— that is,

to Propositions clear and evident of themselves, - - 320

CHAP. VIL— Of some Axioms which are important, and

which may be employed as the Principles of Great Truths, 325
CHAP. VIII.— Of the Rules which relate to Demonstration, - 328
CHAP. IX.— Of some Defects which are commonly to be met

with in the Method of the Geometers, - . 330

CHAP. X.— Reply to what is said by the Geometers on this
subject, - - ... 33-

CHAP. XL— The Method of the Sciences reduced to Eight
principal Rules, . ;53y

CHAP. XII.— Of what we know through Faith, whether

Human or Divine, - . . - '341

CHAP. XIIL— Some Rules for the right direction of Reason
in the belief of things which depend on Human Testimony, 344

CHAP. XIV.— Application of the preceding Rule to the
belief of Miracles, - - ;348

CHAP. XV. — Another remark on the subject of the Belief of
Events, - . ;J54

CHAP. XVI.— Of the Judgment which we should make touch
ing Future Events, .... 35.

INTRODUCTION BY THE TRANSLATOR.

AN introduction to the Port-Royal Logic, if full and com*
plcte, ought to contain a life of Antony Arnauld, its
author. There are perhaps few men, equally celebrated,
of whom so little is generally known, as there are certainly
very few indeed whose lives are so well worthy of being
written. A biography of Arnauld would, however, occupy
more space than can be devoted to the present introduction.
Instead, therefore, of giving a life of its author, we shall
attempt a brief sketch of the character and history of the
work itself.

Before doing so, however, it may be well to glance for a
moment at the state of philosophy in general, and of Logic
in particular, at the time of its first appearance. This was
pre-eminently the period of inquiry and discovery— the age
of Galileo and Torricelli— of Leibnitz and Descartes.
The experiments of the two former had opened a new world
of discovery in science ; while the new direction given to
mental inquiry by the two latter, by fixing its point of de
parture in consciousness, had opened a world scarcely less
new, or less promising, for philosophy. The influence of
the writings of Descartes, in particular, had been very
great — an influence arising, however, more from the spirit
than from the letter of his teaching. The value, indeed, of
his contribution to philosophy, must be estimated in this re
lation,— not so much by what he did himself, as by what he

XVI INTRODUCTION BY THE TRANSLATOR.

caused others to do — not so much by the doctrines which
he taught, as by the spirit which he inspired. And in
this respect it would be perhaps difficult to estimate, or
rather to over-estimate, the amount of good which he ef
fected. The secret of his influence lay in the living
character of his writings. His pages were not enriched by
learned reference, and rarely, indeed, contained allusions
to current doctrines ; but they were instinct with active
thought — they were the faithful reflex of his own mind.
He accepted no heritage of philosophic faith for himself —
*he delivered no traditions to others : and if he has left
behind him some romances, they are not legends gathered
from elder philosophies, but the creations of his own mind.
It was this intensely personal character of his writings —
the evidence they bore of his own severe self-questionings,
and of his faithful replies, that gave them their power.
For the life which they thus breathed, though not glowing
or enthusiastic, was yet strong and real, and the very
touch of vitality is life-giving. Life, too, was what philo
sophy then especially needed, for it had well-nigh lost it
self amidst empty forms and barren abstractions.

It would seem, indeed, as though it required to be perio
dically brought down from the clouds, or from abstractions
equally distant and inaccessible. Such a period had cer
tainly then arrived, and Descartes appeared to recall
philosophy from the pursuit of what it could never attain,
to the humbler, yet wiser, task of investigating what lay
within its reach. This he did both overtly and implicitly.
Overtly, by rejecting the vain search after absolute prin
ciples, and the vain delusion of having found them ; by
founding philosophy on the sure basis of facts, the facts of
inward experience, and restricting its sphere to the domain
of consciousness ; implicitly, by revealing the processes of
his own mind in its search after truth. You saw him ever
actively at work ; and it was a fine introduction to the

INTRODUCTION BY THE TRANSLATOR. XV11

true " Art of Thinking," to be admitted to contemplate the
workings of such a mind — to see it wrestling with doubt,
and overthrowing it — gradually passing on, step by step,
through scepticism, and difficulty, and indecision, until at
length it arrived at certainty and truth.

The example of such thorough independence in philo
sophy was as new and strange as it was inspiring. Reason
had long been subject to the yoke of authority; and
though some noble efforts had been made against it be
fore Descartes, these had not been thorough-going or sus
tained enough, to shake it off. Patricius had revolted
from Aristotle in the interest of Plato ; Ramus had
done the same. Bruno and Campanella, it is true, had
thrown off all authority, but they were at once too rash
and too eccentric to destroy the influence of the church,
or overthrow the power of the schools. It remained for
Descartes successfully to vindicate the claims of reason.
He fully emancipated it from the yoke of authority, and
recalled (as we have said) philosophy to its true office —
the investigation of the relative and knowable. The
spirit of inquiry which had been already partially aroused
was thus thoroughly awakened. Passive acquiescence
gave way to active examination ; reverence for tradition
was overcome by the instinct of freedom ; the power of
authority was broken by the power of truth. Men awoke
to the consciousness, that in matters belonging to reason
they had a right to inquire, and could only thus be truly said
to know. The value of opinions was estimated, not by
the names they bore, but by the truth which they con
tained. Those who studied philosophy now passed from
the stillness of the cloister to the bustle of the world ; from
exclusive converse with books to varied intercourse with
men ; from under the shadow of great names, and old
opinions, to the light of reason, and the individual respon
sibility of thought. The vices of extreme speculation were

XV111 INTRODUCTION BY THE TRANSLATOR.

corrected by a constant and wholesome reference to the
facts of experiment and observation. The severity of a
self-consuming dialectic was tempered by a more varied
range of study and a wider sphere of sympathy. Meta
physics and physics, philosophy and science, were pursued
harmoniously together ; and, as the natural result, there
appeared a spirit of freedom, a love of truth, and a tone
of health, in philosophical writings to which they had pre
viously been strangers.

In none was this influence better seen than in the writings
of the Port-Royalists. The spirit of an age which happily
blended the life of inward reflection with the life of outward
activity, and well balanced the hitherto conflicting claims
of different sciences, was admirably represented in that
small brotherhood of religious and learned men. Pascal,
occupied with thoughts whose very presence was spiritual
companionship, and whose high significance and power
even he, divine as was his gift of speech, was unable to ren
der into words, could yet leave the solemn sanctuary of his
own meditations to mingle with the " Provincial Letters "
in the active warfare of his day, and to contribute with
steady hand, and watchful eye, his body of experiments
to the physical science of his time. Nicole, fond of scholas
tic retirement, and occupied with moral delineations of
exquisite subtilty and discrimination, could yet leave the
quiet which he loved so well, to do earnest battle for his
friends and for the truth. While Arnauld, great alike in
word and deed, and almost equally at home upon all sub
jects, divided the marvellous energy of his mind between
science and philosophy, religion and politics.

In Arnauld, indeed, are found singularly united many
of the best virtues of his time. Love of truth and freedom,
fearless intrepidity, stainless honour, and inflexible justice,
are ever found in his writings. And if with these virtues
there is sometimes blended a confidence which seems to

INTRODUCTION BY THE TRANSLATOR. XIX

border on arrogance, and a vehemence and determination
apparently allied to intolerance, this is not to be wondered
at ; it was the natural manifestation of his force of cha
racter and dialectic power, and the intolerance will be
found, after all, more apparent than real. His life was
throughout one of incessant warfare ; yet few, it may be
safely affirmed, have resisted so well the corrupting influ
ence of continual controversy, and maintained to the last
a spirit so catholic and just. Bowing to the authority of
the church, yet confronting the thunders of the Vatican —
rejecting theold philosophy, yet reproducing the truth which
it contained — accepting the new, yet fearlessly discussing
its dogmas with its founder, Descartes, — he vindicated
incessantly the claims of reason and of faith, with an
earnestness and impartiality which the love of truth alone
could inspire. There is, indeed, scarcely any sight, even
in that age of great men and great controversies, more
inspiring, than that of Arnauld doing battle, single-handed,
with all that was mightiest both in church and state, —
banished by Louis the Fourteenth* — condemned by the
Sorbonne and the Vatican — assailed incessantly with every
kind of weapon, from a folio to a pamphlet, by the most
numerous and influential parties both amongst Catholics
and Protestants, yet maintaining his ground against them
all — replying to every attack with an energy which was
never wearied, a fertility of resource which was never
exhausted, and a freshness of thought, and power of argu
ment rarely equalled, and, perhaps, never excelled. It was
the spirit of the old Breton chivalry revived under the
garb of the modern ecclesiastic of France ; and it glowed
brightly to the close, for it is reported of him, that when
grown old and grey in the warfare, and urged by the

* In effect, that is— Louis, instigated by Arnauld's enemies, issued an
order for his arrest, which compelled him to leave France.

XX INTRODUCTION BY THE TRANSLATOR.

gentler Nicole to give it up, and rest in peace, he promptly
and energetically replied, " Rest ! we shall rest through
eternity."

Thus incessantly occupied, and writing upon almost all
subjects, it might reasonably be imagined that he would
not excel in any. The contrary, however, is the fact ;
and the marvel is, that amidst a life so harassed, and while
engaged in theological controversies, the record of his
share in which fills upwards of forty quarto volumes, he
could yet find time for profound discussion with Descartes
and Malebranche on the most abstract points of philosophy,
and for the production of works which have become text
books in Grammar, Logic, and Mathematics. His merit
as a philosopher must, indeed, ever rank high. Inferior
to Descartes in originality and power, he excelled him in
precision ; and, while never rising to the elevation and
spiritual beauty of Malebranche, he yet penetrated more
profoundly into the foundations of philosophy, and inves
tigated more thoroughly the relations of knowledge. His
finer hypothesis of ideas, though not new to philosophy,
was new to his day, and is probably due to his own
acuteness ; his " New Elements of Geometry" were the first
attempt at a strictly philosophical arrangement of that
branch of science; his " General Grammar" laid the foun
dation of all that has since been done in the philosophical
exposition of language ; his " Logic " * (of which we are
immediately to speak) has never been superseded, and is
at present in general use in the schools of France.

What, however, was the state of logic when the Port-
Royal " Art of Thinking " first appeared ? It was certainly
not in a flourishing condition, and had, indeed, fallen into
considerable neglect, if not into contempt. Descartes directed

* We attribute these works to him, because (with the exception of
the " General Grammar") he certainly wrote by far the greater part
of each of them.

INTRODUCTION BY THE TRANSLATOR.

xxv
'"•"'ant to detepniL

his attention exclusively to method, and held logic, in gene
ral, to be of little use. It had presumptive evidence against
it, since it was identified with a system now overthrown as
useless ; — in other words, it had descended from the schools,
and was held responsible for much of their subtile trifling
and sterile disquisition. Few were found disposed intelli
gently to examine its claims, and vindicate its worth. It
has, indeed, been the misfortune of logic, from the first, to
have less of original power and critical insight brought to
bear upon it than any other branch of mental science.
Looking at its later history, we may say, that with the
exception of a few men of really independent thought,
such as Laurentius Valla and Ludovicus Vives, little in
telligent criticism had been shown in the science since the
time of Boethius. Every writer followed in the track of
his predecessor, and all in the track of Aristotle. Assum
ing the books of the Organ on to be the canonical books of
logic, and the doctors of the schools their authoritative
expositors, very few logical heresies have ever arisen ; and
the few sects who have in form revolted, have generally
remained in essence faithful to the old traditions. The
history of logic has thus been chequered with fewer revo
lutions than have marked the progress of any other branch
of mental science. Better for it, probably, had these been
more numerous, since, in relation to philosophy, they have
generally been the signs of its vitality and the omens of its
progress.

The last considerable era in the history of logic, before
the appearance of the Port-Royal, was that which had
been produced a hundred years before by the revolt of
Ramus from Aristotle, and the publication of his " Dialec
tical It was, however, an epoch of excitement and dis
putation, rather than of progress. Ramus, though an
independent and noble-minded man, carried, nevertheless,
into his philosophical discussions a spirit of personality so

XX INTRODUCTION BY Trre. TT? AKST.ATOI?

intense, that he seemed, even when combating opinions
which had been universally held for more than a thousand
years, to be attacking men rather than doctrines. Thus
his polemic against Aristotle took the form of a personal
attack upon that philosopher, rather than of a serious
attempt to overthrow the system of which he was the
author. He endeavoured to show that the logical works
usually attributed to him were not really his ; he revived
the old and obsolete slanders against his private character;
and, in order to deprive him of the glory of having in
vented logic, he went back to the earliest records of his
tory, and professed to have found the science long before
his time, attributing its discovery even to Prometheus
among the Greeks, and to Noah among the Hebrews.

What we have just said of sects in general is thus
eminently true of the revolt of Ramus. It was more
apparent than real — more in words than things — a change
of outward arrangement rather than of inward essence.
He disparaged the character of Aristotle, but effected no
change in the fundamental principles of logic. The intro
duction or recal of a few verbal novelties, such as the term
axiom for proposition — axiomatical for the part of logic
which treats of judgments — dianoetical, for that which treats
of reasoning — the rejection of the common introduction of
Porphyry, and of the book of the categories, a rejection
which had before been made by Vives — the adoption of
the old division of logic into invention and judgment — the
thorough-going application of the logical principle of divi
sion by dicothomy, derived from Plato — and a fresh
arrangement of the different kinds of syllogisms, — comprise
the majority of the changes effected by Ramus. Many of
these, it will be seen (unimportant as they are), are not
new, while none of them at all change the existing form
of the science, either by the rejection of old elements or
the introduction of new. The boldness of his attack upon

INTRODUCTION BY THE TRANSLATOR.

Aristotle was, however, of itself sufficient to
controversy ; while the energy of his personal character,
his eventful life, and tragical death, conspired to fix at
tention on his writings, and to give them a wider popu
larity than they would otherwise have had. The excite
ment, however, thus produced (as was natural, since it
was of personal rather than of scientific concernment), soon
passed away ; and as it had evolved no principle which
could form the basis of a new development, logic speedily
relapsed into its old state. It may be said, indeed, to have
soon fallen into a worse state than that in which it had
previously been ; and the contrast thus presented between
it and the other branches of philosophy, in which so much
new life was manifest, could scarcely fail to bring it into
discredit, if not into contempt. Everywhere else a spirit
of inquiry and examination was displayed, which was
full of promise. Philosophy was evidently casting aside
the conditions of its scholastic existence in the interest of
a higher and nobler development. Logic alone seemed
incapable of advancement. It underwent no change, but
still retained its old form, after its old life was dead. So long
as scholasticism remained that form was entitled to respect ;
for there was a certain kind of quaint vitality about the old
logic of the schools, which was not without its charm. In
defect of the life with which we were familiar, it Avas pleas
ing to meet with " beings of reason," " logical quadrupeds,"
and disembodied universals, — to see the veritable tree of
knowledge whereon genera and species grew, and from
which they were gathered to meet the exigencies of man
kind, — and to be introduced to those " extra-mundane
and hyperphysical spaces, where chimeras feed and thrive
to giants upon the dew of second intentions." But when
the system with which all this was connected had passed
away, — when it was no longer possible to discuss with
grave simplicity whether twenty thousand angels could

XX

INTRODUCTION BY THE TRANSLATOR.

intance together on the point of a needle, without mutually
v incommoding each other, — with other questions, equally
important, touching the penetration of bodies and the
traduction of souls, — when all this, we say, could no
longer be, it was necessary that the science with which it
was identified should assume a new form, should reflect
the rising intelligence of the age, and share in the onward
progress of philosophy. Instead of this, however, as we
have said, it retrograded ; it became but a feeble echo of
the schools. The best works at most only said well, what
had been better said times innumerable before ; while with
scarcely a single exception, all followed servilely in the
track of the elder writers, stumbled where they stumbled,
deviated where they deviated, only with less power of
recovery and return. A hopeless rigidity seemed to have
fallen on the science. The same divisions invariably
appeared ; the predicables and predicaments were ever at
the threshold. The same illustrations always recur ; resi-
bility was still postulated as the unique and catholic cha
racteristic of man ; Sortes (Socrates) was the only individual
in the world ; the horse (excepting, perhaps, the differential
varieties of centaur and hippogriff) the only animal in
creation ; and the tree of Porphyry the only vegetable
product in nature.

It was not that the mere repetition of the same examples,
until they had become stereotyped in the science, was in
itself an evil. In many respects it was a good ; for, in a
formal science like logic, the more formal the examples —
the less (that is), the attention is diverted from the form to
the matter — the better. It was not, therefore, the mere
repetition of the old forms that was so bad ; — they might
have sufficed, but that the life of intelligence and active
thought had died out of them, and they had thus become
in some sort the symbols of that decay. The infusion of
new life into the science would thus naturally, and almost

INTRODUCTION 3Y THE TRANSLATOR. XXV.

necessarily, sweep away many of its existing accidty^
forms, in the interest of a newer and better manifesta are
of its essential principles. We have seen that these prL.,,
ciples had been obscured by the blind statement and inane
illustration which had been given of them. A fresh exa
mination would exhibit them in a new form, and show, in
their better statement and illustration, the beneficial results
of an enlightened criticism.

This is exactly what the Port-Royal Logic accomplished.
Its authors, while depreciating the science, as was the
custom of their day, had nevertheless a clear knowledge of
its true nature, and an appreciation of its true value.
They brought to its examination the same spirit of inquiry,
and power of analysis, Avhich had been already employed
with so much success in other branches of philosophy,
and the science emerged from their hands in a new and
better form. Much that had previously encumbered it
was cast aside, while much that was at once scientifically
valuable and new was added. Their treatise was character
ised throughout, too, by a vigour of thought, a vivacity of
criticism, a freshness and variety of illustration, an honesty
and love of truth, and withal a human sympathy, which
rendered it a work not only of specific scientific value, but
of general interest and instruction. Logic was thus re
deemed from the contempt into which it had fallen, and
placed on a level with the advancing philosophy of the time.

So much in relation to the historical position and general
character of the Port-Royal Logic. It will be right now
to mention, more in detail, some of its special excellencies.
We do not intend to give an analysis of the book, but
only to mention one or two of the points in which it is
favourably distinguished from other logics, and through
which it may be said to have formed an epoch in the
history of the science.

In the first place, looking at its general division, we may

b

XXVI INTRODUCTION BY THE TRANSLATOR.

jn*

" me
jmhat the doctrine of method received, for the first time,

|.r attention which its importance demands. It might,
-rhaps, be naturally expected that method would occupy
an important place in a work which is, par excellence, the
logic of the Cartesian philosophy ; and which was not only
written under the inspiration of the new exposition of
method, but contains also direct contributions from the
writings of Descartes himself.

We do not mean to say that no attention had been
previously given to method in logical works ; on the con
trary, it had been gradually rising into value and im
portance. The " Logica Vetus et Nova,"" of Claubergius,
published in 1654, eight years before the first edition of
the Port-Royal, contains many passages of great excellence
on method, in general and in special ; but these are scat
tered throughout the Avork in different and widely separated
places, so that we have nowhere a clear and connected
view of the doctrine. The Logic of Gassendi (a posthu
mous work), published in 1658, contains a fourth part on
method, which, though brief, is, like all the writings of
that truly great and learned philosopher, admirably clear
and good. I find, however, in an English work,* much
earlier than either of these, a fourth part devoted to
method, which contains a very good exposition of the
doctrine in general, under its two divisions of analysis and
synthesis (termed in it the context! ve and retextive methods),
as well as a correct appreciation of its more important
relations in detail.

Still, however, notwithstanding these examples, and
others which might be given, of partial appreciation, it
may, I think, be said, that the true relation of the doctrine
of method to logic, as the exposition of the means through
which the elementary processes of thinking are conducted

* Syntagma Logicum, or the Divine Logic. By Thomas Granger,
preacher of God's Word. London, 1620.

INTRODUCTION BY THE TRANSLATOR. XXV11

to the end they seek of thinking well, and through which,
therefore, the elementary constituents of a science are
built up into scientific completeness and perfection, was,
for the first * time, rightly apprehended and expounded in
the Port-Royal. The exposition which it gives of the
true nature of analysis and synthesis, as being not two
different methods, but the two parts of the same method,
differing only in the point from which they depart, not in
the path they traverse, as the road from a valley to a
mountain differs from the road from the mountain to the
valley ; the discrimination of the different relations which
they bear to knowledge, — the former being adapted for
seeking out truth, the latter for teaching it when found ; the
doctrine of definition, its nature and importance, — the dis
crimination between the definition of -words and things, the
former as the exposition of the idea\ we attach to a word
being arbitrary, since we may call an idea by any name we
like, provided we say so beforehand — the latter as the
exposition of the nature of a thing, embodied in an idea,
being immutable, since we cannot have any ideas we like of
the nature of things ; the doctrine of division, or the neces
sity of descending in a regular order from wholes to parts,
from genera to species, — with the body of rules in relation
to demonstration, — constitute together a most valuable
contribution towards the exposition of the true science of

* I am almost tempted to recall this statement in favour of a small
work (for the knowledge and the sight of which I am indebted to the
kindness of Sir W. Hamilton) entitled — " De Duplici Mcthodo libri
duo, unicam P. Rami Meihodum Refutantes,' by Edward Digby, Esq.
(grandfather of Sir Kenelm Digby), a protestant gentleman of the 16th
century, who wrote several philosophical tracts, which are highly spoken
of. This tract on Method is remarkably clear and good. It was pub
lished in the year 1589.

f I adopt for the time the Cartesian language, and use the term
idea. Its generic latitude, however, is restricted here, and generally in
logic, to one of its species, viz. conceptions or notions.

XXV111 INTRODUCTION BY THE TRANSLATOR.

method. Nor has its value been overlooked. Baron de
Gerando specially praises the account of analysis and syn
thesis, and states that the whole doctrine of method, while
Cartesian in substance, is yet more concisely, clearly, and
completely expounded, than by Descartes himself;* while
the Italian philosopher of the last century, Genovesi, says,
after high praise of the logic in general, of this in parti
cular, — " Sed ego sic censeo, quartam ejus artis partem
optima? esse frugis plenam omnique pretio superiorem." |

In the second place, the discrimination of ideas, in rela
tion to their quality and quantity, is well worthy of remark.
Under the former relation, the authors discriminate, in
ideas, the qualities of clearness and obscurity, and come so
near to the distinction afterwards taken by Leibnitz, which
completes the analysis of ideas in this relation — the dis
tinction, to wit, of distinctness and indistinctness, or confusion
— that we can but marvel how they missed it. They
even take it in terms, for the chapter which relates to this
subject (Part I., Chap. IX.) is headed " on the clearness
and distinctness of ideas, and their obscurity and confu
sion ;" and after explaining what is meant by the clearness
and confusion of an idea, and going on to the further dis
crimination of distinctness from indistinctness, to wit, that
an idea is clear when we are able to distinguish it, as a
whole, from others, but distinct when we are able also to
distinguish the parts of which it is the sum : after, we say,
approaching this discrimination, but before reaching it, they
abandon the whole inquiry, and miss the glory of the dis
covery, by confounding together the qualities of clearness
and distinctness, and the opposite qualities of obscurity and
confusion. These discriminations, though of psychological
rather than of logical concernment, are, however, of great

* Historic Comparee des Syst. de Phil. Paris, 1847, t. ii. p. 255.

f Ant. Genuensis Elementa Artis Logico-Criticce. 1748. Proleg. § 39.

INTRODUCTION BY THE TRANSLATOR. XXIX

importance, and, indeed, essentially necessary, to the com
plete history of ideas.

A far more important discrimination, however, is that
made under the second relation — the distinction, to wit,
in ideas of the two quantities of comprehension and extension
(Part I., Chap. VI. ; Part II., Chap. XVII.). This dis
tinction, though taken in general terms by Aristotle, and
explicitly enounced with scientific precision by one, at least,
of his Greek commentators, had escaped the marvellous
acuteness of the schoolmen, and remained totally overlooked
and forgotten till the publication of the Port-Royal Logic.*
It was there, for the first time in modern philosophy,
taken by Arnauld, and is, it cannot reasonably be doubted,
due to his own acuteness, since there is no evidence or
likelihood of his having been at all acquainted with the
Greek commentators on Aristotle, from whom alone it
could have been derived. From the Port-Royal it has
passed into most of the subsequent works on logic, and,
indeed, into some on grammar.f It was familiar to the

* For my knowledge of this I am indebted to Sir W. Hamilton. I do
not go at all into any detail which might be given touching1 the history
of this distinction, because I am unwilling, in any way, to anticipate the
history and exposition of it, which we may hope to receive from the
hands of that distinguished philosopher.

It is right, also, to state here generally, that this distinction, though
thus taken by the Port-Iloyalists, and repeated in almost every logic
since their time, has remained wholly barren in the science till quite
a recent period ; that its scientific significance has been, for the first
time, fully investigated, appreciated, and applied throughout the whole
science, by Sir William Hamilton ; and that this thorough-going appli
cation of it gives a new development to logic, as practically valuable as
it is scientifically complete. The exposition and application of this
distinction, indeed, combined with the new doctrine of the predicate,
will, I need scarcely say, to any conversant with logic, constitute a new,
as ii; will be the last, revolution in its history — the era of its completion
second only in importance to the era of its discovery.

•)• See Sicard's " Eltmens de Gramminaire Generals, appliques . a la
languce Francaise" Paris, 1801, t. 1, p. 99.

XXX INTRODUCTION BY THE TRANSLATOR.

philosophical writers of this country at the beginning
of the last century,* and expressly taken by most of the
logical writers of the same period,! except the Oxford ones4
It seems, however, to have been almost forgotten till quite a
recent period, when we see it is beginning to be again
revived.§ It is a distinction of the widest application, and
of the utmost importance in logic ; and when the history
of the science comes to be fully written, to have been the
re-discoverer of it will constitute no slight claim to honour
able mention therein.

In the third place, the demonstration given of the special
rules of syllogisms, and the reduction of their general laivs
to a single principle, may be mentioned as worthy of note.
These demonstrations evolve explicitly the principles
(which are rarely formally given by logicians) on which
the rules implicitly proceed, and thus well expound the
doctrine touching the quantification of terms universally
held by logicians. The reduction of the general laws of
syllogism to the single principle (Part III., Chap. X.), that

* See, among others, Norris ' " Theory of the Ideal World." 1704,
vol. ii., p. 178. Oldfield's " Essay towards the Improvement of Reason."
1707, p. 70.

f See the " Logica Elenctica " of Tho. Govea, published at Dublin
in the year 1683, p. 198. " Logica Compendium" (by Hutcheson), 1754,
pp. 24, 25. "Elements of Logick," by William Duncan (of Aberdeen),
B. I. chap, iv., § 2, ^[ x. " Logich ; or an Essay on the Elements of
Reasoning,'' &c., by Richard Kirwan, Esq., 1807, vol. i., p. 41.

J Aldrich is the only older Oxford writer, that I remember, who
alludes to the Port-Royal at all, and he, most ungratefully (since he
was much indebted to it), reviles it. For this, however, he has been
properly censured, and justice done the Port-Royal Logic, by the last
editor of the " Rudimenta," the Rev. H. L. Mansel, in the very able
and learned notes with which he has enriched that work. See the
notes to pages 85 and 86 of Mr Hansel's edition of Aldrich.

§ See "An Outline of the necessary Laws of Thought," by the Rev. W.
Thompson, M.A., London, 1849, p. 128 ; and the work just referred to.
" Artis Logics rudimenta, from the text of Aldrich, with Notes," by
the Rev. H. L. Mansel, M.A., Oxford, 1849, p. 23.

INTRODUCTION BY THE TRANSLATOR. XXXI

one of the premises must contain the conclusion, and the other
show that it does so, was an important simplification of syllo
gistic law, and evidently led the way for the further reduc
tion effected by Buffier, who subsequently reduced all the
rules of syllogism to the principle, " that what is in the con
tained is in the containing"

There are several other parts of special excellence which
might be signalised ; but we shall only mention one more : —
The catalogue given in the Twentieth Chapter of the
Third Part of the various sources whence the vices of
ordinary reasoning spring. This, it is true, belongs rather
to modified than to pure logic — to the accidental condi
tions under which thought is realised by us, rather than
to its essential necessities. As a contribution to this part
of logic, however, it is of high value, since it is, if not an
absolutely complete, at all events a full, enumeration of the
sources, both external and internal, of those distracting
influences which ordinarily interfere with the exercise of
our thinking powers and pervert our judgments. It con
tains a fine analysis of the inward sophisms of interest,
passion, prejudice, and self-love, through which we are
continually deceived, and is characterised throughout by a
tone of high moral thoughtfulness, and a truly humane, just,
and noble spirit. Nor has its merit been overlooked. It
is, indeed, a part which has excited general attention, and
called forth universal praise. To select only two from the
eulogiums which have been bestowed upon it — Baron de
Gerando, speaking of the parts which especially merit
praise, says, " Above all, that beautiful dissertation on the
origin and effects of prejudices on the vices of reasoning
in civil life. This dissertation, indeed, constitutes, of itself,
a logic entirely new, almost sufficient, and far more im
portant than all the apparatus of the peripatetic logic ;
and it must be recorded to the praise of the Port-Royal
writers, that this is a part of their work which is peculiarly

XXX11 INTRODUCTION BY THE TRANSLATOR.

their own." * While Mr Stewart, speaking of the original
reflections scattered throughout the work, and regretting
that these have not been more frequent, says : — " Among
these discussions, the most valuable, in my opinion, is the
Twentieth Chapter of the Third Part, which deserves the
attention of every logical student as an important and in
structive supplement to the enumerations of sophisms given
by Aristotle." f

It may be well to say a word or two, in passing, about
the phraseology employed in the Port-Eoyal. Almost
every modern logic is written in the interest, or under
the influence, of some particular philosophical system, the
precise significance of whose technical language it is,
therefore, necessary to know, in order to interpret it aright.
The Port-Royal is, as we have said, Cartesian, and its
terms, accordingly, are employed in their Cartesian signi
fication. Thus the word idea is used in its Cartesian
generality, or rather universality, to comprehend not only
the products of our faculties of knowledge in particular,
but also every modification of the mind in general. Thus,
not only notions, images, and perceptions, but also feelings,
volitions, and desires, are ideas. The particular kind of
idea meant is generally indicated by the context, or by
some significant epithet. Thus, as we have seen, clear
ideas and confused ideas are spoken of. A confused idea,
we may say, was almost always, in the earlier Cartesian
writings, synonymous with sensation; it was an impression
subjectively distinct or definite, but objectively obscure, a
feeling rather than a knowledge — a sensation, in short,
rather than a perception or notion. What we have said

* Historic comp. de Syst. Philos., Tom. ii., pp. 50, 55. (Ed. 1806.)
In the later edition published at Paris in 1847, this statement is some
what modified, and much extended. Vol. ii., p. 253, 254. The passage
is a beautiful one, but too long to be extracted.

f Preliminary Dissertation to the Encyclopaedia Britannica, p. 81.

INTRODUCTION BY THE TRANSLATOR. XXX1H

of the word idea, and the latitude in which it is taken, is
equally true of the terms thought and thinking ; and the
antithesis of thought and extension common throughout
the volume, is, it need scarcely be said, from Descartes, as
the great criterion of certainty found in the clearness of an
idea, which is given in the. Fourth Part, is the Cartesian
version of intuitive evidence.

Before leaving the consideration of the general charac
ter of the work, it may be right to make some allusion to
the theological discussions which occur in two or three parts.
It is somewhat unfortunate that these were introduced, as
they add to the size of the work without being of any
special logical relevancy or value. The introduction of
such discussions was, however, a very common practice
amongst logical writers. Milton reprehends it in the pre
face to his logic ; and a later British writer frankly con
fesses that he had composed his logic in the interest of
orthodoxy, deeming it a scandal to Protestants that they
should with scarcely any exception (he excepts Derodon,
of Geneva, by name), be dependent for their logic, as they
were, on Catholics in general, and Jesuits in particular.

Logic, indeed, as a formal science, identified with no
particular matter, equally applicable to all, yet dependent
upon some for its illustration, is specially open to this kind of
use, or abuse. The favourite study or profession of the writer
would generally determine from what branch of science
the examples should be taken ; and the source from which
they were thus selected often gave a distinctive epithet to
the logic. Law and divinity have been specially favoured
in this way. Thus, not to go beyond English works on
logic, I have, in my own collection, one called " The
Lawyers' Logicke" by Abraham Fraunce the poet, written
while he was at Lincoln's Inn, and copiously illustrated by
examples taken from legal authorities.* Another entitled

* This is a very able, curious, and learned book, and was published

XXXIV INTRODUCTION BY THK TRANSLATOR.

" The Divine Logike ; serving especially for the use of di
vines in the practice of preaching, and for the further help of
judicious hearers, and generally for all, by Thomas Granger,
preacher of God's Word,"" which is a tolerably full Ramist
logic, with theological examples : and a third, dedicated
" To the illustrious his Excellency Oliver Cromwell, Generalissimo
of England, Ireland, and Scotland, Chancellor of Oxford, fyc.,
and to the most renowned his General Council of Officers," *
which contains about as much Scripture doctrine and
history as is to be found in most catechisms.

This is, however, far from being the case with the Port-
Royal. It is in general singularly free from this error,
and stands, indeed, as we have said, favourably distin
guished from other logical works, by the novelty and
variety of its illustrations. The theological discussions
which it contains are not wrought into the body of the
work. They occur, for the most part, at the end of chap
ters ; and many of them were added subsequently to the
First Edition. The reason of their introduction is explained
in general terms in the Preface to the Fifth Edition. Some
parts in the previous editions had been laid hold of by the

in London, in the year 1588. Fraunce was a protegee of Sir Philip
Sydney's, and was distinguished for the excellence of his English hexa
meters, which are among the earliest and most beautiful attempts in that
kind of verse.

* " The Art of Logich ; or, the entire body of Logich in English,''
by Zachary Coke, of Gray's Inn, gent., London, 1654. This, too, like
most of the older works, is of considerable scientific value. The
dedication is very curious, as the following extract, which comprises the
first two sentences, may serve to show : — " Sirs, the eommodement of
the publike in the appendages of an holy place, as it is the a*/^ and
just carac of Heroick Enterprizings, so hterentes capiti multa cum laude
corona, the crown and apex of their glories, whom God shall honour to
contribute thereunto, though but a grain or atome. Whereof (my
Lords), by the conduct of providence and advantage of your incompar
able magnanimities, after long exagitations and repugnance of affairs,
we have gotten more than a (glad) glimpse, and by your unwearied zeals
may shortly obtain the full prospect and fruition."

INTRODUCTION BY THE TRANSLATOR. XXXV

Calvinist ministers, and turned against the Catholics, and,
as it should seem, against the Jansenists in particular.
The Jansenists and the Calvinists, it should be explained,
were, in obedience to the great law of all religious dif
ferences — that the nearer the doctrinal union, the wider the
practical separation, too often the fiercer the practical
hostility — were, we say, in conformity with this law, bit
terly opposed, and waged incessant warfare on each other.
Happily, without sympathising in the acrimony which
their controversies often displayed, we may admire the
piety of both parties, and that of Arnauld and Nicole was
certainly as sincere and deep as that of Claude and Jurieu.
As they were, however, nearly agreed in doctrine, it behoved
them to signalise their separation by a more earnest con
test about the points in which they differed. These were
mainly touching the authority of the church, and the value
of religious rites and observances. Thus, most of the dis
cussions introduced into the present volume relate to the
eucharist and the Catholic mystery of tran substantiation.
Though evidently there introduced for a temporary pur
pose, and, as we have said, of no great logical value, they
are, however, not without interest, and (as we need scarcely
say), quite harmless. Happily the time for morbid dread
at the statement of opinions opposed to our own, and un
manly effort at their perversion or concealment, is gone
by. Protestantism, it may be presumed, is not the sickly
thing that cannot bear the light, and is withered by the
first breath of adverse doctrine. It built itself on strong
reasons of old, and rests upon them still. We may say,
therefore, fearlessly to all students : " Your bane and anti
dote are both before you;" the instrument of all reasoning
is in your hands — through it overthrow the false, confirm
the true.

We proceed to give a brief sketch of the History of the
Port-Royal Logic.

XXXVI INTRODUCTION BY THE TRANSLATOR.

Its origin is briefly detailed in the Advertisement to the
First Edition. It arose out of the conversations in which
Arnauld, Nicole, Sacy, Lancelot, and their friends were
accustomed to engage, in the retirement of Port-Royal, on
matters pertaining to philosophy, and was at first undertaken
rather in jest than in earnest. We may be sure, however,
that those who displayed a knowledge of the science, so
minute, ready, and exact, had been diligent students of
logic, or they could never have produced such a work
within so short a time.*

The question of its authorship was, for a long time, a
vexed one. It was attributed sometimes to Nicole alone,
sometimes to Arnauld alone, and sometimes to both. The
latter may be regarded as the true opinion, since it is now
established that the volume is mainly the work of Arnauld,
assisted by Nicole. Arnauld himself refers to it as his
own f in his defence of his work, against Malebranche, on
True and False Ideas ; and also in a letter to Leibnitz,
written in June in the year 1690. The most minutely
authentic information, however, on the subject is contained
in the manuscript of the younger Racine (who was himself a
pupil at Port-Royal), quoted by Barbier in his Diction-
ary.| According to this manuscript the dissertations and
the additions are by Nicole ; the first parts are by Arnauld
and Nicole together ; the fourth by Arnauld alone.

The first edition was published at Paris in the year
1662, 12mo, under the title — " La Logique on VArt de
Penser ; contenant outre les Regies communes, plusieurs observa
tions nouvelles, propres a former le juyement."

* See Logique cTAristote, traduite par J. B. Saint- Hilaire. Paris.
1844, Tom. i. (Preface, p. 137).

f I give this reference on the faith of the French editor of Ar-
uauld's works, as 1 have been unable to verify it.

I Dictionnaire des Ouvrages Anonymes et Pseudonymes. Paris, 1806,
Tom. i., p. 496.

INTRODUCTION BY THE TRANSLATOR. XXXvii

The second edition, revised and augmented, was pub
lished in 1664, also at Paris.

The third appeared in 1668, and was, as the others,
published at Paris, in 12mo.

The fourth was published at Paris in 1674. To this
edition were added the 10th Chapter of the First Part ;
the 13th, 14th, and 15th of the Third; and the 1st of the
Fourth ; while considerable changes were made in Chap
ters 10 and 11 of the Second Part, and 19 and 20 of the
Third, together with some additions.

The fifth edition was published at Paris in 1683. The
additions made to this were, in the First Part, Chapters 4
and 15 ; and, in the Second, Chapters 1, 2, 12, and 14. Of
these, the two first and the two last are taken in great
part from Arnauld's Book on the " Perpetuity of the Faith ; "
while the others, to wit, the 1st and 2d of the Second Part,
are taken almost verbatim from the " General Grammar,"
as is indicated at the beginning of the latter chapter. From
the fifth, the subsequent editions, which have been num
berless, are reprinted.

The fourth edition was reprinted in the year 1678, at
Amsterdam, and included, amongst the Elzevir collection
of works. A number of other editions from the same, and
other presses, were also published at Amsterdam before
the close of the century.

It was also very soon translated into Latin. How many
different Latin translations there were I cannot positively
say. Two there appear to have been, at least ; one by
Ackersdyk, published in 1666, and another, published at
Halle, with a Preface by Buddeus, in 1704. I think there
must have been another, as the only one which I have
seen is an anonymous one published at Leyden, which, as
early as the year 1702, had gone through ten editions.
This was reprinted at London in 1667, and again in 1674.

XXXV111 INTRODUCTION BY THE TRANSLATOR.

All the Latin translations, indeed, appear to have gone
through a great number of editions.

It was also translated into Spanish under the title —
" Arte de pensar 0 Lngica admirable," Madrid, 1759;* and
into Italian, as we are informed by Genovesi.j

The logical treatises published in the Cartesian systems
of Regis and Le Grand, are also, in substance, taken from
the Port-Royal. That of Regis is confessedly only an
abstract of it ; while Le Grand reproduces verbally its
more important parts. I am informed by Sir W. Hamil
ton that an abridgment of the Port-Royal was also pub
lished in Holland, under the title of " Logica Contracta"
which went through many editions. These facts all tend
to prove how widely its popularity extended. It very soon
after its publication, indeed, acquired a European reputa
tion, and became a classical work on the science.

There have been two previous translations into English,
of which it is right to say something. The first was pub
lished in London as early, I think, as 1680, if not earlier.
The only edition of this translation which I have seen is
the fourth, which was published in 1702. The title-page
states that it is " for public good translated into English
by several hands ; " and also that this edition is " corrected
and amended." "What it was before it received this im
provement it would be difficult to say, since, with the
benefit of these corrections and amendments, it is as bad
as it well can be. The translators, indeed, seem not to
have had any of the qualifications for their work which it
behoved them to possess, — not certainly a knowledge of
English, for they introduce connecting particles where
there is nothing to connect, and conditional particles where

* Allgemeine Encyclepadie der Wissenschafter und Kiinste, vou Ersch
und Gruber. Leipsic, 1820 (art. Arnauld).
f Elementa Artis Loyico Critics. 1748, proleg. § 38.

INTRODUCTION BY TIIK TRANSLATOR. XXXIX

there is no condition, — not a knowledge of French, for they
are led into error, and indeed into making nonsense of the
original, by the accidental resemblances of words, — not a
knowledge of the most elementary divisions of philoso
phy, for they say (in the preface), " let the reader disperse
the application of this Art of Thinking into all the actions
of his life if knowledge and understanding be his aim," — not
good taste, for they constantly use words which have the
vice of offensiveness without the virtue of strength, — and,
finally, not good faith, for they alter and reverse, at will,
the meaning of the original without the slightest intima
tion of having done so. Thus, to take the shortest, but not
the most flagrant, example, they translate " le Pape qui est
vicaire de Jesus -Christ," by " the Pope, who is Antichrist ;"
and are, indeed, almost systematically perfidious when they
are not unintelligible.

The other translation, first published in London in the
year 171G, and again in 1723, is by Mr John Ozell, a
gentleman of French extraction, who translated a number
of works from the French, Italian, and Spanish languages,
at the beginning of the last century. This is a much better
one, in every respect, than the preceding, and is, on the
whole, well done. The edition I have seen (1723) is,
however, disfigured by an immense number of typogra
phical errors. The translation, too, is incorrect in many
parts, evidently, in some of the instances, through copying
the previous one. It is also imperfect, since it has several
omissions, often of sentences, sometimes of paragraphs, while,
in more than one instance, the passages left out extend to
pages.

While speaking of omissions, I may mention that one
long passage (the account of the miracle at Hippo, from
St Augustine, 'page 352), is left out in all the translations
I have seen, both English and Latin. Of this, I need
scarcely say, I cannot approve, and have, therefore, in-

Xl INTRODUCTION BY THE TRANSLATOR.

serted it. My notions of the duties of a translator, in this
respect, are stringent, and would not permit me to take
from, add to, or alter the original in any way. If any
thing, therefore, has been left out of the present transla
tion, it has been done so by accident, not by design, — if
anything has been mis-rendered, it has been so through
ignorance, not through bad faith. Whatever may be its
defects, therefore (and to these I am keenly alive), it is more
complete — I trust, also, that it will be found more correct
— than the previous translations.

AUTHOR'S ADVERTISEMENT TO THE FIRST EDITION.

THIS small work had quite an accidental origin, and is due
rather to a kind of sport than to any serious intention. A
person of quality, entertaining a young nobleman, who, at
an early age, displayed much depth and penetration of
mind, happened to mention to him that he had, when him
self young, met with a person who in fifteen days made
him acquainted with the greater part of logic. The
mention of this led another person who was present, and
who held that science in no great esteem, to reply, spor
tively, that if Mr would take the trouble he could

confidently engage to make him acquainted, in four or five
days, with all that was of any use in logic. This proposal,
made at random, having afforded entertainment for a
while, it was resolved to make the attempt ; but as it was
thought that the common logics were not sufficiently con
cise, or exact, it was determined that a brief abstract
should be made from them for this purpose.

This is all that was contemplated in undertaking the
work, and it was thought that it would not occupy more
than a day. On engaging in it, however, so many new
reflections presented themselves to the mind that it became
necessary to write them down, in order to proceed. Thus,
instead of a single day, four or five days were occupied in
forming the body of this Logic, to which several additions
have since been made. But although it thus embraced
many more topics than it was at first designed to include,

Xlii ADVERTISEMENT TO THE FIRST EDITION.

the attempt, nevertheless, succeeded as had been promised,
for the young nobleman having reduced the work to four
tables, easily learnt them one a-day, without even having
need of any one as instructor. It is certainly true, however,
that we ought not to expect that others will learn it with
the same ease, his mind being quite extraordinary in every
thing that depends on intelligence. Such is the accident
that gave rise to this work. But whatever opinion may
be held respecting it, the printing of it cannot, at least
with justice, be condemned, since it was compulsory rather
than voluntary. For since many persons had obtained
manuscript copies, which, it is well known, cannot be made
without many mistakes creeping in, and since it was under
stood that the printers were about to publish it, it was
judged better to give it forth to the public in a correct and
perfect form than to allow it to be printed from imperfect
copies. In consequence of this, it became necessary to
make various additions, which have increased its size
about a third, it being thought that the views it contained
ought to be extended further than they had been in the
first essay. It is the design of the following Discourse to
explain the end which the work proposes, and the reason
of those subjects which are treated of in it.

AUTHOR'S ADVERTISEMENT TO THE FIFTH EDITION.

\

VARIOUS important additions have been made to this New
Edition of the Logic. These were occasioned by the
objections made by the Ministers to certain observations
which it contained ; it thus became necessary to explain
and defend the parts which they had endeavoured to attack.
It will be seen, by these explanations, that reason and faith
perfectly harmonise, as being streams from the same
source, and that we cannot go far from the one without
departing also from the other. But although theological
disputes have thus given rise to these additions, they are
not less appropriate or less natural to logic; and they
might have been made, even though there had never been
any ministers in the world, who had attempted to obscure
the truths of our faith with false subtileties.

DISCOURSE I.

IN WHICH THE DESIGN OF THIS NEW LOGIC IS SET FORTH.

THERE is nothing more desirable than good sense and just
ness of mind, in discriminating between truth and false
hood. All other qualities of mind are of limited use ; but
exactness of judgment, is of general utility in every part,
and in all the employments of life. It is not alone in the
sciences, that it is difficult to distinguish truth from error,
but also in the greater part of those subjects which men
discuss in their every-day affairs. There are, in relation
to almost everything, different routes — the one true, the
other false — and it is reason which must choose between
them. Those who choose well, are those who have minds
well-regulated ; those who choose ill, are those who have
minds^ ill-regulated; and this is the first and most import
ant difference Avhich we find between the qualities of
men's minds.

Thus, the main object of our attention should be, to
form our judgment, and render it as exact as possible ;
and to this end, the greater part of our studies ought to
tend. ^ "\\ e employ reason as an instrument for acquiring
the sciences ; whereas, on the contrary, we ought to avail
ourselves of the sciences, as an instrument for perfecting
our reason— justness of mind being infinitely more import
ant than all the speculative knowledges which we can
obtain, by means of sciences the most solid and well-estab
lished. This ought to lead wise men to engage in these
only so far as they may contribute to that end, and to

2 DISCOURSE I.

make them the exercise only, and not the occupation, of
their mental powers.

If we have not this end in view, the study of the specu
lative sciences, such as geometry, astronomy, and physics,
will be little else than a vain amusement, and scarcely
better than the ignorance of these things, which has at
least this advantage — that it is less laborious, and affords
no room for that empty vanity which is often found con
nected with these barren and unprofitable knowledges.
These sciences not only have nooks and hidden places of
very little use, they are even totally useless, considered in
themselves, and for themselves alone. Men are not born
to employ their time in measuring lines, in examining the
relations of angles, and considering the different move
ments of matter, — their minds are too great, their life
too short, their time too precious, to be engrossed with
such petty objects ; but they ought to be just, equitable,
prudent, in all their converse, in all their actions, and in
all the business they transact ; and to these things thev
ought specially to discipline and train themselves. This
care and study are so very necessary, that it is strange that
this exactness of judgment should be so rare a quality.
We find, on every side, ill-regulated minds which have
scarcely any discernment of the truth ; men who receive all
things with a wrong bias ; who allow themselves to be
carried away by the slightest appearances ; who are always
in excess and extremes ; who have no bond to hold them
firm to the truths which they know, since they are attached
to them rather by chance than by any clear insight ; or
who, on the other hand, entrench themselves in their
opinions with such obstinacy, that they will tiot listen to
anything that might undeceive them ; who determine
rashly about that of which they are ignorant, which they do
not understand, and which, perhaps, no one ever could
understand ; who make no difference between one speech
and another, or judge of the truth of things by the tone of
voice alone, — he who speaks fluently and impressively
being in the right — he who has some difficulty in explain
ing himself, or displays some warmth, in the wrong : they
know nothing beyond this.

Hence it is, that there arc no absurdities too groundless

DISCOURSE I. 3

to find supporters. Whoever determines to deceive the
world, may be sure of finding people who are willing
enough to be deceived ; and the most absurd follies always
find minds to which they are adapted. After seeing what
a number are infatuated with the follies of judicial astro
logy, and that even grave persons treat this subject se
riously, we need not be surprised at anything more. There
is a constellation in the heavens which it has pleased
certain persons to call the Balance, and which is as much
like a balance as a windmill. The Balance is the symbol
of justice ; those, therefore, that are born under that constel
lation, will be just and equitable. There are three other
signs in the zodiac, which are called, one the Ram, another
the Bull, another the Goat, and which might as well have
been called the Elephant, the Crocodile, and the Rhinoceros.
The Ram, the Bull, and the Goat, arc ruminant animals ;
those, therefore, who take medicines Avhen the moon is under
these constellations, are in danger of vomitins them aerain.

' O O O

Such extravagant reasonings as these, have found persons
to propagate them, and others who allow themselves to be
persuaded by them,,

This falseness of mind is the cause, not only of the errors
we meet with in the sciences, but also of the majority of
the offences which are committed in civil life, — of unjust
quarrels, — unfounded law-suits, — rash counsel, and ill-
arranged undertakings. There are few of these which
have not their origin in some error, and in some fault of
judgment, so that there is no defect which it more concerns
us to correct. But this correction is as difficult of accom
plishment as it is desirable, since it depends very much on
the measure of intelligence with which we are endowed.
Common-sense is not so common a quality as we imagine.
There are a multitude of minds heavy and dull, which we
cannot reform by giving them the understanding of the
truth, but only by restricting them to those things which
are suited to them, by withholding them from judging
about those things which they are not capable of knowing.
It is true, nevertheless, that a great part of the false judg
ment of men does not spring from this principle, but is
caused solely by precipitation of mind and want of atten
tion, which leads us to judge rashly about that which we

DISCOURSE I.

know only obscurely and confusedly. The little love men
have for truth, leads them to take no pains, for the most
part, in distinguishing what is true from what is false.
They allow all sorts of reasonings and maxims to enter
their minds ; they like better to suppose things true, than
to examine them ; if they do not comprehend them, they
are willing to believe that others understand them well ;
and thus they fill the memory with a mass of things false,
obscure, and unintelligible, and then reason on these prin
ciples, scarcely considering at all, either what they speak
or what they think. Vanity and presumption contribute
still more to this effect. We think it a disgrace to doubt,
and to be ignorant ; and we prefer rather to speak and
determine at random, than to confess we are not sufficiently
informed on the subject to give an opinion. We are all
full of ignorance and errors ; and yet it is the most diffi
cult thing in the world to obtain from the lips of man this
confession, so just, and so suited to his natural state, — I
am in error, and I know nothing about the matter.

We find others, on the contrary, who, having light
enough to know that there are a number of things obscure
and uncertain, and wishing, from another kind of vanity, to
show that they are not led away by the popular credulity,
take a pride in maintaining that there is nothing certain.
They thus free themselves from the labour of examination,
and on this evil principle they bring into doubt the most
firmly established truths, and even religion itself. This is the
source of Pyrrhonism, another extravagance of the human
mind, which, though apparently opposed to the rashness of
those who believe and decide everything, springs neverthe
less from the same source, which is, want of attention.
For as the one will not give themselves the trouble of
discerning errors, the others will not look upon truth
with that care which is necessary for perceiving its evi
dence. The faintest glimmer suffices to persuade the one
of things very false, and to make the other doubt of things
the most certain ; and in both cases it is the same want of
application which produces effects so different.

True reason places all things in the rank which belongs
to them ; it questions those which are doubtful, rejects
those which are false, and acknowledges, in good faith,

DISCOURSE I. 5

those which are evident, without being embarrassed by
the vain reasons of the Pyrrhonists, which never could, even
in the minds of those who proposed them, destroy the
reasonable assurance we have of many things. None ever
seriously doubted the existence of the sun, the earth, the
moon, or that the whole was greater than its parts. AVe
may indeed easily say outwardly with the lips that we
doubt of all these things, because it is possible for us to lie ;
but we cannot say this in our hearts. Thus Pyrrhonism is
not a sect composed of men who are persuaded of what
they say, but a sect of liars. Hence they often contradict
themselves in uttering their opinion, since it is impossible
for their hearts to agree with their language. We see this
in Montaigne, who attempted to revive this sect in the last
century ; for, after having said that the Academics were
different from the Pyrrhonists, inasmuch as the Academics
maintained that some things were more probable than
others, which the Pyrrhonists would not allow, he declares
himself on the side of the Pyrrhonists in the following
terms : " The opinion," says he, li of the Pyrrhonists is
bolder, and much more probable." There are, therefore,
some things which are more probable than others. Nor
was it for the sake of effect that he spoke thus, — these are
words which escaped him without thinking of them, —
springing from the depths of nature, which no illusion of
opinions can destroy. But the evil is, that in relation to those
things which are more removed from sense, these persons, who
take a pleasure in doubting everything, withhold their mind
from any application, or apply it only imperfectly to that which
might persuade them, and thus fall into a voluntary uncer
tainty in relation to the affairs of religion ; for the state of dark
ness into which they have brought themselves is agreeable
to them, and very favourable for allaying the remorse of
their conscience, and for the unrestrained indulgence of
their passions. Thus, these disorders of the mind, though
apparently opposed (the one leading to the inconsider
ate belief of what is obscure and uncertain, the other
to the doubting of what is clear and certain), have never
theless a common origin, which is, the neglect of that at
tention which is necessary in order to discover the truth.
It is clear, therefore, that they must also have a common

6 DISCOURSE I.

remedy, and that the only wayin which wecan preserveour-
selves from them, is by fixing minute attention on our
judgments and thoughts. This is the only thing that is
absolutely necessary to preserve us from deceptions. For
that which the Academics were wont to say, that it was im
possible to discover the truth unless we had its characters, as it
wouldbe impossible toidentify a runaway slave we mightbein
search of, unless we had some signs by which, supposing we
were to meet him, we could distinguish him from others, is
only a vain subtlety. As no marks are necessary in order to
distinguish light from darkness but the light which reveals it
self, so nothing else is necessary in order to recognise the truth
butthe very brightness which environsit, and which subdues
and persuades the mind, notwithstanding all that may be said
against it ; so that all the reasonings of these philosophers
are no more able to withhold the mind from yielding to
the truth, when it is strongly imbued with it, than they are
capable of preventing the eyes from seeing, when, being
open, they are assailed by the light of the sun.

But since the mind often allows itself to be deceived by
false appearances, in consequence of not giving due atten
tion to them, and since there are many things which can
not be known, save by long and difficult examination, it
would certainly be useful to have some rules for its guid
ance, so that the search after truth might be more easy
and certain. Nor is it impossible to secure such rules ;
for since men are sometimes deceived in their judgments,
and at other times are not deceived, as they reason some
times well and sometimes ill, and as, after they have
reasoned ill, they are able to perceive their error, they may
thus notice, by reflecting on their thoughts, what method
they have followed when they have reasoned well, and
what was the cause of their error when they were deceived;
and thus on these reflections form rules by which they may
avoid being deceived for the future.

This is what philosophers have specially undertaken to
accomplish, and in relation to which they make such mag
nificent promises. If we may believe them, they will
furnish us, in that part which is devoted to this purpose,
and which they call logic, with a light capable of dispell
ing all the darkness of the mind ; they correct all the

DISCOURSE I. i

errors of our thoughts ; and they give us rules so sure that
they conduct us infallibly to the truth, — so necessary, that
without them it is impossible to know anything with com
plete certainty. These are the praises which they have
themselves bestowed on their precepts. But if we consider
what experience shows us of the use which these philoso
phers make of them, both in logic and in other parts of
philosophy, we shall have good grounds to suspect the
truth of their promises.

Since it is not, however, just to reject absolutely the.
good there is in logic because of the abuse which has been
made of it, and as it is not possible that all the great minds
which have applied themselves with so much care to the
rules of reasoning, have discovered nothing at all solid ;
and finally, since custom has rendered it necessary to know
(at least generally) what logic is, we believed that it would
contribute something to public utility to select from the
common logics whatever might best help towards forming
the judgment. This is the end we specially propose to
ourselves in this work, with the view of accomplishing
which, there arc many new reflections Avhich have sug
gested themselves to our mind while writing it, and which
form the greatest and perhaps the most important part of
it, for it appears the common philosophers have attempted
to do little more than to give the rules of good and bad '
reasoning. Now, although we cannot say these rules are
useless, since they often help to discover the vice of certain
intricate arguments, and to arrange our thoughts in a more
convincing manner, still this utility must not be supposed
to extend very far. The greater part of the errors of men
arise, not from their allowing themselves to be deceived
by wrong conclusions, but in their proceeding from false
judgments, whence wrong conclusions are deduced. Those
who have previously written on logic have little sought to
rectify this, which is the main design of the new reflec
tions which are to be found scattered through this book.

It must, however, be acknowledged, that these reflec
tions, which we call new because they have not appeared
in any of the common logics, do not all belong to the
author of this work, and that some of them he has bor
rowed from the books of a celebrated philosopher of this

8

DISCOURSE I.

age, who is distinguished as much for perspicuity as others
are for confusion of mind. Some othershave been ob
tained from a small unpublished work of the late M. Pascal,
called by him " The Spirit of Geometry" What is said in
the Ninth Chapter, touching the definition of names and
things, is derived from this source, and also the five rules
which are explained in the Fourth Part, which are, how
ever, extended much farther than they were in that writ
ing.

With respect to what has been taken from the common
books of logic, the following is to be observed : In the first
place, it is intended to comprise in this work all that was
really useful in the others ; such as the rules of figure, the
divisions of terms and ideas, certain reflections on proposi
tions. There are other things which we deem sufficiently
profitless ; such as the categories and the laws, but which,
as they were short, easy, and common, we did not think
it right to omit, forewarning the reader, however, what
judgment to form of them, in order that he might not sup
pose them to be more useful than they are.

More of doubt arose in relation to certain matters diffi
cult enough and but of little use ; such as the conversion
of propositions, and the demonstration of the rules of
figure ; but we have determined not to omit them, since
their very difficulty is not altogether without its use, for
although it is true that where a difficulty leads to the
knowledge of no truth, we have reason to say, " stultum est
difficiles habere nugas" yet we ought not to avoid it in the
same way when it contains some truth, since it is bene
ficial to exercise oneself in the comprehension of difficult
truths.

There are some stomachs which can only digest light
and delicate food, and so there are some minds which can
only apply themselves to understand truths which are easy,
and garnished with the ornaments of eloquence. This is,
in either case, a blameworthy fastidiousness, — or, rather,
a real weakness. We ought to train our minds to discover
the truth, however concealed or disguised it may be, and
to respect it under whatever form it may appear. If we
do not overcome this distaste and aversion, which is the
easiest thing in the world, to contract at anything which ap-

DISCOURSE I. 9

pears a little subtle or scholastic, we shall insensibly contract
our minds, and render them incapable of understanding
those things which are only to be known through the con
nection of many propositions ; and thus, when a truth
depends on three or four principles, which it is necessary
to look at all at once, we are perplexed and discouraged,
and are deprived in this way of the knowledge of many
useful things, which is a great defect.

The capacity of the mind is enlarged and extended bv
exercise ; and to this the mathematics, and generally all
difficult things, such as those we are speaking of, mainly
contribute ; for they give a certain expansion to the mind,
and practise it to consider more attentively, and hold more
iirmly, that which it knows. These are the reasons which
have induced us to retain these difficult matters, and eve^i
to treat them as suhtilely as any other logic. Those who
object to this may pass over these parts without reading
them. To this end, we have taken care duly to forewarn
them at the head of the chapters, that they may have no
ground of complaint, and that, if they read them, they
may do it voluntarily. Neither have we thought it needful
to be perplexed by the distaste of some who have quite a
horror of certain artificial terms, which have been invented
for the purpose of retaining more easily the different ways
of reasoning, as though they were words of magic; and
who often make jests, insipid enough, on baroco and bara-
lipton, as savouring strongly of pedantry, for we judged
these jests to be more contemptible than the words them
selves. True reason and good sense do not allow us to
treat as ridiculous that which is not so. Now, there is
nothing ridiculous in these terms, provided they be not
made too mysterious ; and that, as they were only made
to assist the memory, we do not introduce them in common
discourse, and say, for instance, that we are going to
reason in bocardo, or in felapton, which would indeed be
very ridiculous.

The reproach of pedantry is sometimes much abused,
and often, in attributing it to others, we fall into it our
selves. Pedantry is a vice of the mind, and not of a
profession ; and there are pedants in all robes, and in
everv state and condition of life. To extol thin GTS trivial

10 DISCOURSE I.

and mean, — to make a vain show of science, — to heap
together Greek and Latin quotations without judgment, —
to get in a passion about the order of the Attic months,
the garments of the Macedonians, and such other useless dis
putes, — to pillage an author while abusing him, — to decry
outrageously those who are not of our opinion as to the
meaning of a passage in Suetonius, or as to the etymology
of a word, as if religion and the state were endangered
thereby, — to wish to excite all the world against a man
who does not sufficiently appreciate Cicero, as against a
disturber of the public peace, as Julius Scaliger attempted
to do against Erasmus, — to interest oneself in the reputa
tion of an ancient philosopher, as though he were one's
own parent, — this is what may be truly called pedantry.
But there is none at all in understanding and explaining
artificial terms, ingeniously enough devised for the sole
purpose of assisting the memory, provided they be em
ployed with the precautions which we have already in
dicated.

It only remains for us to explain why we have omitted
a great number of questions which are found in the com
mon logics ; — such as those which are treated of in the
prolegomonas, the universal d parte rei, the relations, and
many others of a similar kind, of which it is almost enough
to say that they belong rather to metaphysics than to logic.
It is true, however, notwithstanding that this is not the main
thing which we considered ; for, if we judged that a subject
would be useful in forming the judgment, we cared but
little to what science it belonged. The arrangement of
our different knowledges is free as that of the letters in a
printing office, — each has the right of arranging them in
different classes according to his need, so that, in doing
this, the most natural manner be observed. If a matter
be useful, we may avail ourselves of it, and regard it, not
as foreign, but as pertinent to the subject. This explains
how it is that a number of things will be found here from
physics and from morals, and almost as much of meta
physics as it is necessary to know, though in this we do
not profess to have borrowed anything from any one. All
that is of service in logic belongs to it ; and it is quite
ridiculous to see the trouble that some authors have given

DISCOURSE I. II

themselves — as Ramus and the Ramists, — though other
wise very able men, who have taken as much pains to
limit the jurisdiction of each science, and to prevent them
from trespassing on each other, as might be taken in
marking out the boundaries of kingdoms, and determining
the prerogatives of parliament.

What led us to omit altogether those questions of the
schools was, not simply that they are difficult, and of little
use, since we have considered some of this nature, — but
that, having these bad qualities, we believed we could
more easily omit all mention of them, without offending
any one, inasmuch as they are held in but little esteem.
For there is a great difference to be observed among the
useless questions, of which books of philosophy are full.
There are some which arc despised even by those who
discuss them ; and there are others, on the contrary, which
are celebrated and accredited, and have obtained a place
in the writings of men of great repute.

It seems to be a duty which we owe to these well-known
and celebrated opinions, however false we may believe
them to be, not to be ignorant of what is said concerning
them. We owe this civility, or rather justice, not to their
falseness, which merits none, but to the men who have
favoured them, — not to reject what they have valued,
without examination. It is reasonable thus to purchase,
by means of the trouble taken in understanding them, the
right to despise them.

But we have more liberty in relation to the former ; and
the logical ones which we have thought right to omit are
of that kind. They have this advantage, that they are
held in no esteem, not only in the world, where they art-
unknown, but by those even who teach them. No one,
thank God, now takes any interest in the universal d parte
ret, in beings of reason, or in second intentions. Thus there is
no ground to apprehend that any one will be offended at
our having said nothing about them ; besides which, these
matters are so ill adapted to the French language, that
they would have tended rather to degrade the philosophy of
the schools than to make it esteemed.

It is right, also, to mention that we have not always
followed "the rules of a method perfectly exact, having

12

DISCOURSE II.

placed many things in the Fourth Part which ought to have
been referred to the Second and Third ; but we did this
advisedly, because we judged that it would be useful to
consider in the same place all that was necessary in order
to render a science perfect; and this is the main business
of method which is treated of in the Fourth Part. For this
reason, also, we reserved what was to be said of axioms
and demonstrations for the same place.

These, in brief, are the views we have had in writing
this logic. Perhaps, after all, there are few persons who
will profit by it, or who will be conscious of the good they
have obtained from it, because but little attention is com
monly given to putting precepts in practice by express
reflections on them. But we hope, nevertheless, that those
who have read it with some care may receive an impression
from it which will render them more exact and solid in
their judgments, even without their being conscious of it,
as there are some remedies which cure diseases by in
creasing the strength and fortifying the parts. Be this as
it may, it cannot trouble any one long, — those who are a
little advanced being able to read and understand it in seven
or eight days ; and it will be strange if, containing so great
adversity of things, each does not find something to repay
him for the trouble of reading it.

DISCOURSE II.

CONTAINING A REPLY TO THE PRINCIPAL OBJECTIONS WHICH
HAVE BEEN MADE AGAINST THIS LOGIC.

THOSE who have determined to make their works public,
ought, at the same time, to calculate on having as many
judges as readers ; and this condition they should not con
sider either unjust or onerous. For if they are reallv dis-

•DISCOURSE II. lo

interested, they ought, in making their works public, to
have abandoned all property in them, and to consider them
henceforth with the same indifference as they would those
of strangers. The only right which they can legitimately
reserve to themselves, is that of correcting what may be
defective, for which purpose these different criticisms
which are made on books, are extremely serviceable ; for
they are always useful when they are just, and do no harm
when they are unjust, since we are not obliged to follow
them.

Prudence would nevertheless dictate that we should often
yield to those judgments which do not appear to us just;
since, though we may not see any fault in that which is
objected to, we may see, at least, that it is not adapted to
the minds of those who complain of it. It is doubtless
better, when we are able to do so without falling into ti
greater inconvenience, to choose a medium so just, that, in
pleasing judicious persons, we do not displease those who
have a judgment less exact, since AVC ought not to suppose
that we shall have none but intelligent and able readers.

Thus, it were to be desired that the first editions of
books be considered only as unfinished essays, which are
submitted by their authors to men of letters, in order to
obtain their opinions respecting them ; and that then, with
the different views which these different opinions have
given them, they should go through the whole again, in
order to exhibit their works in the most perfect form to
which they can bring them. This is the course which we
should have liked much to have followed in the Second
Edition of this Logic, if we had heard more of what was
said in the world about the First. We have, nevertheless,
done what we could, and have added, suppressed, and cor
rected many things, in obedience to the thoughts of those
who have had the goodness to let us know what they dis
cerned faulty in it.

And, in the first place, — As to the language, we have
followed almost entirely the advice of two persons, who
have taken the trouble to point out some defects which had
slipped into the work through negligence ; and certain ex
pressions, which they considered were not sanctioned by
good usage. And we have failed to comply with their

14 DISCOURSE II.

views, only when, on consulting others, we found that
opinions were divided, in which case we thought we might
be allowed to take a free course.

In relation to things, there will be found more additions,
than either alterations or retrenchments, since we were less
acquainted with what was objected to in this respect. It
is true, nevertheless, that we knew of some general objec
tions, which were made against this book, but we did not
think it right to dwell upon these, since we were persuaded
that those even who made them, would be easily satisfied,
when we had pointed out to them the design which we
had in view in those things of which they complain.
Hence, it will be useful, here, to reply to the chief of these
objections.

We have found some persons who are dissatisfied with
the title, The art of thinking, instead of which they would
have us put, The art of reasoning well. But we request
these objectors to consider, that, since the end of logic is to
give rules for all the operations of the mind, and thus as
well for simple ideas as for judgment and reasonings, there
was scarcely any other word which included all these
-operations ; and the word thought certainly comprehends
them all ; for simple ideas are thoughts, judgments are
thoughts, and reasonings are thoughts. It is true that we
might have said, The art of thinking well, but this addition
was not necessary, since it was already sufficiently indi
cated by the word art, which signifies, of itself, a method
of doing something well, as Aristotle himself remarks.
Hence it is, that it is enough to say, the art of painting, the
art of reckoning, because it is supposed that there is no
need of art in order to paint ill, or reckon wrongly.

Another objection, much more weighty, has been made
against the multitude of things, taken from different
sciences, which is to be found in this Logic. This objec
tion it is necessary to examine with more care, since it
attacks the design of the whole work ; and thus gives us
an opportunity of explaining that design. " To what end,"
it is asked, " is all this medley of Rhetoric, Ethics, Physics,
Metaphysics, and Geometry? When we expect to find
logical precepts, we are suddenly transported to the highest
sciences, while the author knows not whether we under-

DISCOURSE IT. 15

stand them or no. Ought he not to suppose, on the con
trary, that if we had already all these knowledges, we
should have no need of this Logic ? And, would it not
have been better for him, to have given us one quite
simple and plain, in which the rules should have been ex
plained by examples taken from common things, than to
have embarrassed it with so many matters, that it is quite
stilled ? "

But those who reason thus, do not sufficiently consider
that a book can scarcely have a greater defect, than that,
of not being read, since it can only benefit those who read
it ; and that thus everything which helps to make a book
read, contributes also to its usefulness. Now, it is certain,
that if we had followed their advice, and had made a logic
altogether barren (with the ordinary examples, of an
animal and a horse), we should only have added to the
number of those of which the world is already full, and
which are not read. Whereas, it is just that collection of
different things which has given this work such a run, and
caused it to be read with less distaste than is felt in read
ing others.

This was not, however, the principal design we had in
this collection, — to induce all the world to read it, by ren
dering it more diverting than the common logics. We
maintain, rather, that we have followed a course the most
natural, and the most advantageous for illustrating this art,
in remedying, as far as possible, an inconvenience which
had rendered the study of it almost useless.

For experience shows that, of a thousand young men
who learn logic, there are not ten who remember anything
of it six months after they have finished their course.
Now the true cause of this oblivion, this ignorance, which
is so common, appears to be, — that all the subjects which
are treated of in logic, being in themselves very abstract,
and very far removed from common use, are still connected
with examples of no interest, and of which we never speak
elsewhere. Thus the mind, Avhich had attended to the
subject Avith difficulty, having nothing to keep up its atten
tion, easily loses all the ideas, which it had received re
specting it, since they are never renewed by practice.
Again, since the common examples do not sufficiently make

16 DISCOURSE II.

it understood, that this science is applicable to everything
useful, the learners are accustomed to restrict logic to logic,
without extending it further ; whereas, it exists for the
very purpose of being an instrument to other sciences.
And thus, as they have never seen its true use, they never
use it at all, and are willing enough even to lay it aside as
an unworthy and useless knowledge. We believed, there
fore, that the best remedy of this evil was, not to separate
logic, so much as is commonly done, from other sciences,
for whose service it is intended ; but, by means of examples,
to join it in such a manner to solid knowledges, that the
rules and the practice might be seen at the same time ; to
the end that we might learn to judge of these sciences by
logic, and to retain logic by means of these sciences.
Thus this diversity is so far from stifling the precepts, that
nothing can contribute more towards making them well
understood, and easily retained ; since they are in them
selves too subtle to make an impression on the mind, unless
they are attached to something more interesting and more
sensuous.

In order to render this collection the more useful, we
have not borrowed the examples from these sciences at
random ; but have chosen from them, the most important
points, and such as might best serve as rules and principles
for the discovery of truth in other matters which we were
not able to discuss.

For example, in relation to rhetoric, we considered that
the help which we were able to obtain from it, in finding
thoughts, expressions, and embellishments, was not very
considerable. The mind furnishes thoughts enough, cus
tom gives forms of expression, and as for figures and orna
ment, we have always more than enough of these. Thus
its whole use almost consists in preserving us from certain
bad ways of writing and speaking, and especially from an
artificial and rhetorical style, which is the greatest of all
vices. Now there will be found, perhaps, in this Logic, as
much that is useful for knowing and avoiding these de
fects as in the books which treat expressly of that subject.
The last Chapter of the First Part, in showing the nature of
a figurative style, teaches, at the same time, the use which
ought to be made of it, and discovers the true rules by

DISCOURSE II. 17

which we ought to distinguish good and bad figures. That
in which we treat of places in general, will much help to
restrain the superfluous abundance of common thoughts.
The article where we speak of the bad reasonings which
eloquence insensibly begets, in teaching that we should
never consider that which is false as beautiful, propounds,
in passing, one of the most important rules of true rhetoric,
and one which will, more than all others, form the mind
to a manner of writing, simple, natural, and judicious.
Finally, what we have said in the same chapter of the care
which ought to be taken not to excite the malignity of
those whom we address, teaches us to avoid a very great
number of defects, which are so much the more dangerous,
as they are difficult to detect.

In relation to morals, the main subject treated of did not
permit us to insert much. I believe, however, that it will
be allowed, that what is found in the chapter on false ideas
of good and evil, in the First Part, and that which treats of
the wrong reasonings which are common in civil life, is of
very wide application, and may help to make us acquainted
with a great part of the errors of mankind.

In metaphysics, there is nothing more important than the
origin of our ideas, — the separation of spiritual ideas from
corporeal images, — the distinction between mind and body,
and the evidences of the soul's immortality, founded on this
distinction ; and these points, it will be seen, are treated of
very fully in the First and Fourth parts.

There will be found, also, in different places, the greater
part of the general principles of physics, which are very
easily apprehended ; and sufficient light may be obtained
from what is said of ponderosity, of sensible qualities, of
the operations of sense, of magnetic powers, of occult
virtues, and of substantial forms, to correct a multitude of
false ideas, which the prejudices of youth have left in our
minds ; not that we shall thus be enabled to dispense with
the more careful study of all these things in the books
which treat expressly of them, but we considered that there
were many persons not devoted to the study of theology
(for which it is necessary to know minutely the philoso
phy of the schools, which is, as it were, its language),
for whom a more sreneral knowledge of these sciences

18

DISCOURSE II.

might suffice. Now, although there will not be found in
this book all that it is necessary for us to know in relation
to these subjects, we may nevertheless say, with truth,
that there will be found almost all that it is needful for us
to remember.

The objection, that there are some of the examples
which are not sufficiently adapted to the intelligence of be
ginners, is true only in relation to the geometrical examples ;
for, as to the others, they may be understood by all who
have any expansion of mind, though they had never learnt
anything of philosophy ; and perhaps, indeed, they will be
more readily understood by those who have as yet no pre
judices, than by those who have their minds filled with the
maxims of the common philosophy. In relation to the ex
amples from geometry, it is true that they will not be under
stood by every one ; for we believe that they will scarcely
ever be found, except in express and separate discussions,
which may easily be passed over, or in matters clear
enough of themselves, or sufficiently illustrated by other
examples, to render those taken from geometry unneces
sary. Again, if the places in which these are employed
be examined, it will be seen that it would have been very
difficult to find others equally suitable, since scarcely any
where but in this science can we obtain ideas which are
quite pure, and propositions which are incontestible. For
example, we have said, in speaking of reciprocal properties,
that it was one of rectangled triangles, that the square of
the hypothenuse is equal to the square of the sides. This
is clear and certain to those who understand it, and those
who do not understand it may suppose it, and comprehend
none the less the theory to which this example is applied.
But if we had determined to employ the example which
is commonly used — risibility — which is said to be a pro
perty of man, we should have advanced a thing obscure
enough, and very doubtful ; for, if we understand by the
word risibility the power of making such a grimace as is
made in laughing, we do not see why brutes may iot be
trained to make such a grimace, and perhaps, indeed, there
are some who do so. But if we include in this word, not
only the change which laughing makes in the countenance,
but also the intelligence which accompanies and produces

DISCOURSE II. 19

it, and thus understand, by risibility, the power of laugh
ing with intelligence, — all the actions of man ought, in the
same way, to be considered reciprocal properties, there
being none of them which are not peculiar to man alone,
when connected with intelligence. Thus we may say that
it is the property of man to walk, to drink, to eat, since
it is man only who walks, drinks, and eats with intelligence.
Provided we extend it thus, we shall be in no want of ex
amples of properties ; but still these will not be certain to
the minds of those who attribute intelligence to truth, and
who may, therefore, equally well attribute to them laugh
ing with intelligence, whereas the example which we have
employed is certain to the minds of all men.

In the same way, we wished to show, in another place,
that there are some corporeal things which we conceive
after a spiritual manner, and without imagining them ; and
for this purpose, we referred, as an example, to a figure of
a thousand angles, which we conceive clearly by the mind,
although we are not able to form any distinct image which
represents its properties ; and we said, in passing, that one
of the properties of that figure was, that all its angles were
equal to 1990 right angles. It is clear that this example
proves very well what AVC wished to show in that place.

It only remains for us to answer a more odious objec
tion, which some persons have founded on the examples of
imperfect definitions and bad reasonings, which we have
taken from Aristotle, and which appear to them to be the
offspring of a secret desire to degrade that philosopher.
But they would never have formed a judgment so inequit
able, had they sufficiently considered the true rules which
ought to be regarded in citing examples of faults, and which
we have had in view in quoting Aristotle.

In the first place, experience shows that the greater part
of the examples commonly given are of little use, and re
main but for a short time in the mind, as they are formed
at pleasure, and are so plain and palpable, that it is scarcely
possible to fall into them.

It is, therefore, more serviceable, in order to make us
remember what is said of these defects, and to avoid them,
to choose real examples, taken from sonic author of cele
brity, whose reputation may arouse us to be more on our

20

DISCOURSE II.

guard against such mistakes, seeing that the greatest men
may commit them.

Again, as our aim ought to be to render all that we have
written as useful as possible, we ought to endeavour to
select examples of faults which it is important not to be
ignorant of; for it would be very useless to burden the
memory with all the reveries of Fludd, of Vanhelmont,
and of Paracelsus. It is better, therefore, to seek for ex
amples in the works of authors so celebrated that we are
in some sort obliged to know them, even to their defects.

Now all this is found in perfection in Aristotle; for
nothing can tend more powerfully to avoid a fault than
showing that so great a mind has fallen into it ; and his
philosophy has become so celebrated by the great number
of persons of repute who have embraced it, that we are
under the necessity of knowing even the defects which it
may have. Thus, as we judged it very useful for those
who might read this book to learn, in passing, various
points of that philosophy, and that, nevertheless,^ was not
at all useful to be deceived, we have referred to these in
order to explain them ; and we have indicated, by the way,
any defects which might be found in them, in order to pre
vent any from being deceived.

It was not, therefore, to degrade Aristotle, but, on the
contrary, to do him as much honour as possible, in those
things wherein we differed from his opinion, that we took
these examples from his works ; and it is plain that the
points Avhich we have criticised are of very little import
ance, and do not affect the foundation of his philosophy,
which we had no intention whatever of assailing. And if
we have not referred to those many excellent things which
are to be found everywhere in the" books of Aristotle, it is
because no occasion offered for these, in the course of our
work ; but if we had found occasion, we should have
introduced them with pleasure, and should not have failed
to give him the just praises which he merits. For it is
certain that Aristotle had, in truth, a very vast and com
prehensive mind, which discovers in the subjects of which
he treats a great number of connections and consequences ;
and hence he has been very successful in what he has said
of the passions in the Second Book of his Rhetoric. There

DISCOURSE II. 21

are also many beautiful things in his books of Politics and
of Ethics, in the Problems, and in the History of Animals.
And whatever confusion may be found in his Analytics, it
must be confessed, nevertheless, that almost all that we
know of the rules of logic is taken thence ; so that there
is, in fact, no author from whom we have borrowed more
in this Logic than from Aristotle.

It is true that his Physics appears to be the least perfect
of his works, as it was that which was for the longest time
condemned and prohibited by the church, as a learned
author has shown, in a book written expressly for this pur
pose ;* but still the principal defect to be found in this part
of his work is, not that it is false, but, on the contrary, that
it is too true, and that it teaches us only things of which
it is impossible to be ignorant. But who can doubt that
all things are composed of matter, and a certain form of
that matter? Who can doubt that matter, in order to
acquire a new manner and a new form, needs something
which it had not before, — that is to say, that it had the
privation of it ? And, in fine, who can doubt, those
other metaphysical principles, which all depend on form
— that matter alone does nothing — that there are place,
movements, faculties ? But after we have learned all these
things, we do not seem to have learned anything new, or
to be at all better able to give an account of any of the
effects in nature.

If any are to be found who maintain that it is not
lawful for us to declare that we are not of Aristotle's
opinion, it will be easy to show them that this scrupulous
ness is very unreasonable ; for, if we ought to yield defer
ence to any philosophers, this can only be for two reasons,
either on account of the truth Avhich they maintained, or
on account of the opinion of the men who have supported
them. In regard to the truth, they ought always to be
respected when they have reason on their side ; but the
truth can never oblige us to respect falsehood in any man,
be he who he may. With regard to the agreement of
men, and the approval of a philosopher, it is certain that
it also merits some respect, and that it would be imprudent

* M. de Launoi, in his book, De Varia Aristotelis Fortuna.

22 DISCOURSE II.

to oppose it, without using great precautions; and the
reason of this is, that in attacking what is received by all
the world, we expose ourselves to the charge of presump
tion by supposing that we have more light than others ;
but when the world is divided with regard to the opinions
of an author, and many men of reputation on both sides,
we are not bound to this reserve, and we may freely de
clare what we approve, and what we do not approve, in
those books in relation to which men of letters are divided,
because, in this case, we do not so much prefer our own
opinion to that of this author, and those who support him,
as arrange ourselves on the side of those who are opposed
to him on this point.

This is properly the state in which we now find the
philosophy of Aristotle. For, having had divers fortunes,
— being at one time generally rejected, and at another
generally approved, — it is now reduced to a state which is
a medium between these extremes, being maintained by
many learned men, while it is attacked by others of equal
reputation. Works are continually and freely written in
France, in England, in Holland, and in Germany, for and
against the philosophy of Aristotle. The conferences at
Paris are divided, as well as the books, and no one offends
now by declaring himself against him. The most cele
brated philosophers are bound no longer to the slavery of
receiving blindly whatever they find in his books; and
there are even opinions of his which are generally aban
doned, for where is the physician now who would under
take to maintain that the nerves come from the heart, as
Aristotle believed, since anatomy has clearly proved that
they have their origin from the brain? — whence Saint
Augustine says, " Qui ex puncto cerebri et quasi centra sensus
omnes quinaria distributione diffudit" And where is the
philosopher who is hardy enough to affirm that the swift
ness of heavy things increases in the same ratio as their
weight, since there is no one now who may not disprove
this doctrine of Aristotle's by letting fall from a high place
very unequal weights, in the swiftness of which, never
theless, there will be remarked very little difference ?

No violent states are commonly of long duration, anc
all extremes are violent. It is very hard to condemn

DISCOURSE II. 23

Aristotle generally, as was formerly done, and it is a very
great constraint to lie obliged to believe and approve
everything he has written, and to take him as the test of
truth in all philosophical opinions, which was afterwards
done. Men cannot long endure such constraint, and re
turn insensibly to the possession of their natural and
rational freedom, which consists in receiving that which
is judged to be true, and rejecting that which is judged to
be false. For there is nothing contrary to reason in yield
ing to authority in those sciences which, treating of things
which are above reason, ought to follow another light. —
and this can only be that of Divine authority ; but there
is no ground whatever in human sciences, which profess
to be founded only on reason, for being enslaved by autho
rity contrary to reason. The rule which we have followed
in speaking of the opinions of philosophers, both ancient
and modern, is this, — we have considered truth alone in
both, without espousing, generally, the opinions of any
one in particular, and also without declaring ourselves
generally against any one. So that all that ought to be
inferred, when we reject the opinion either of Aristotle or
of another, is, that we do not agree with this author in that
particular ; it cannot be at all inferred that we do not do
so in other points, much less that we have any aversion to
him, or any desire to degrade him. We believe that this
disposition will be approved of by all impartial persons,
and that there will be found, through the whole of this
work, only a sincere desire of contributing to public utility,
as far as we may be able to do so in a work of this nature,
without any prejudice or partiality.

LOGIC,

OR

THE ART OF THINKING.

LOGIC is the ART OF DIRECTING REASON ARIGHT, IN

OBTAINING TITE KNOWLEDGE OF THINGS, FOR THE INSTRUC
TION BOTH OF OURSELVES AND OTHERS. It Consists ill the

reflections which have been made on the four principal
operations of the mind : conceiving (concevoir), judging,
reasoning, and disposing (ordonner).

By conception is meant the simple view we have of the
objects which are presented to our mind; as when, for
instance, we think of THE SUN, THE EARTH, A TREE, A
CIRCLE, A SQUARE, THOUGHT, BEING, without forming any
determinate judgment concerning them ; and the form
through which we consider these tl ings is called AN IDEA.

Judgment is that operation of the mind through which,
joining different ideas together, it affirms or denies the one
of the other ; as when, for instance, having the ideas of
the EARTH and ROUNDNESS, it affirms or denies of the earth
that it is round.

Reasoning is that operation of the mind through which
it forms one judgment from many others ; as when, for
instance, having judged that true virtue ought to be re
ferred to God, and that the virtue of the heathens was not
referred to him, we thence conclude that the virtue of the
heathens was not true virtue.

By disposition is here meant that operation of the mind,
by which, having on the same subject (the human body,
for instance), different ideas, judgments, and reasonings, it
disposes them in the manner best fitted for obtaining u
knowledge of the subject. This is also called Method.

c

26 INTRODUCTION.

All these operations are performed naturally, and often
times better by those who are unacquainted with the rules
of logic than by those who know them.

Thus logic consists, not in discovering the means of
performing these operations, since nature alone furnishes
these in giving us reason, but in reflecting on that which
nature does within us, which is of service to us in the
following respects : —

First, In assuring us that we employ reason aright ; for
the consideration of the rule which guides it, awakens
within us fresh attention to its operations.

Second, In enabling us to discover and explain more
easily any error or defect which may be found in the
operations of our mind ; for it often happens that we dis
cover, by the light of nature alone, that a reasoning is
false, without being able to determine how it is so, as those
who are not skilled in painting may be sensible of defect
in a picture, without being able, nevertheless, to explain
what is the blemish which offends them.

Third, In making us better acquainted with the nature
of our mind, by the reflections which we thus make on its
operations. And this is, in itself, more excellent, con
sidered merely in a speculative point of view, than the
knowledge of all corporeal things, which are infinitely
beneath those which are spiritual.

And if the reflections which we make on our thoughts
referred to ourselves alone, it would suffice to consider
them in themselves, without having recourse to words or
any other signs. But since we are not able to express
our thoughts to each other, unless they are accompanied
with outward signs ; and that this custom is so strong,
that even when we think alone, things present themselves
to our minds only in connection with the words to which
we have been accustomed to have recourse in speaking to
others ; — it is necessary, in logic, to consider IDEAS in
their connection with WORDS, and WORDS in their connec
tion with IDEAS.

From what has been said, it follows that logic may be
divided into four parts, according to the different reflections
which are made on the four operations of the mind.

FIRST PART.

CONTAINING REFLECTIONS ON IDEAS, OR ON THE FIRST

OPERATION OF THE MIND, WHICH IS CALLED

C ONCE! VING ( CONCH VOW).

SINCE we cannot have any knowledge of that winch u
without us, save through the medium of ideas which are
•within us, the reflections which may he made on our
ideas form perhaps the most important part of logic, since
it is that which is the foundation of all the rest.

These reflections may be reduced to FIVE HEADS, ac
cording to the five ways in which ideas may be considered.

First, IN RELATION TO THEIR NATURE AND ORIGIN.

Second, — IN RELATION TO THE PRINCIPAL DIFFERENCE

OF THE OBJECTS WHICH THEY REPRESENT.

Third, — IN RELATION TO THEIR SIMPLICITY OR COMPOSI
TION, IN WHICH THE ABSTRACTION AND PRECISION OF THE
MIND IS TO BE CONSIDERED.

Fourth, — IN RELATION TO THEIR EXTENSION OR RESTRIC
TION, THAT IS TO SAY, THEIR UNIVERSALITY, PARTICU
LARITY, AND INDIVIDUALITY.

Fifth, IN RELATION TO THEIR CLEARNESS AND OBSCURITY,

OR DISTINCTNESS AND CONFUSION.

30 IDEAS THEIR NATURE AND ORIGIN. [PART I.

though sometimes that idea may be more clear and distinct,
and sometimes more obscure and confused, as will be here
after explained. For it would be a contradiction to main
tain that I know what I say in pronouncing a word, and
that, nevertheless, I conceive nothing in pronouncing it,
but the sound of the word itself. Hence, too, may be
seen, the falseness of two very dangerous opinions which
have been advanced by some philosophers of our time.

The first is, — that we have no idea of God. For if we
had no idea connected with it in uttering the name of
God (Dieu), we could conceive only these four letters
D i e u, and a Frenchman, in hearing the name of God,
would have nothing more in his mind than if, entering a
synagogue, and being altogether ignorant of the Hebrew
language, he heard pronounced in that tongue Adonai or
Elohim. And when men have taken the name of God, as
Caligula and Domitian, they would not have been guilty
of any impiety, since if no idea be attached to them, there
is nothing in these letters or syllables which may not be
attributed to a man. Whence also was not the Hollander
accused of impiety who called himself Ludovicvs Dieu ?
In what then consisted the impiety of those princes but in
this, — that, connecting with the word God a part, at least,
of its idea, as that of an exalted and adorable nature, they
appropriated to themselves the name with this idea ?

But if we have no idea of God, what possible foundation is
there for all that we say respecting Him, — as that he is
one alone, that he is eternal, all-powerful, all-good, all-
wise, — since there is nothing of all this contained in this
sound, Dieu ; but in the idea alone which we have of God,
which we have connected with that sound. And it is only
on this account that we refuse the name of God to all
false divinities ; not because the word may not be attri
buted to them if it be taken materially, since it has been
attributed to them by the heathens ; but because the idea
which we have of a Sovereign Being, and which custom has
connected with the word God, belongs to the true God alone.

The second of these false opinions is that of an English
man, who says, — that reasoning is nothing but an assem
blage of names connected together by the word est. Whence
it follows, that by reason we conclude nothing at all con-

CHAP. T.] IDEAS THEIR NATURE AND ORIGIN. ,'!!

cerning the nature of things, but only concerning their
appellations ; that is to say, we consider simply whether ice
have connected together these names of things well or ill. in
relation to the agreements we have established in oar imagi
nation touching their signification.

To which lie adds ; — if this l/e so, as it very possibly is,
reasoning will depend on words, words on imagination, and
imagination will depend, perhaps, as I believe it does, on the
•movements of the bodily organs : and thus our mind ^c ill be
nothing more than a movement among certain parts of an
organised body.

We are willing to believe that these words contain an
objection far removed from the mind of their author; but
since, taken dogmatically, they tend to the destruction of
the immortality of the soul, it is important to show their
falsehood, which it will not be difficult to do. For the
convention of which that philosopher speaks, could never
have been anything more than the determination to which
men have come to take certain sounds as the signs of ideas
which we have in our minds. So that, if, besides the names,
we have not within the ideas of the things, that convention
would have impossible, as it is impossible by any conven
tion to make a blind man understand what is meant by
the words, red, green, or blue ; because, not having these
ideas, he is unable to connect them with any sound. Further,
different nations having given different names to things,
and even to those which are most clear and simple — as, for
instance, to those which are the objects of geometry — they
could not have the same reasonings touching the same
truths, if reasoning were only an assemblage of names con
nected together by the word est. And thus, too, it appears,
in consequence of these different words, that the Arabians,
for example, who do not agree with the French in giving
the same significations to sounds, would not be able at all
to agree in their judgments and reasonings, if their reason
ings depended on that convention.

In fine, when we speak of the signification of words as
arbitrary, there is much that is equivocal in the term arbi
trary. It is indeed a thing quite arbitrary that we join a
given idea to a certain sound, rather than to another ; but
the ideas are not arbitrary thintrs, and do not depend upon

32 IDEAS THEIR NATURE AND ORIGIN. [PART I.

our fancy ; at all events those which fire clear and distinct.
And this may be clearly shown, since it would be ridicu
lous to suppose that effects which are very real could depend
on things purely arbitrary. When, for instance, a man has
by reasoning come to the conclusion that an iron axle which
passes through the two stones of a mill, might be turned with
out turning the one below, if being round it pass through a
round hole ; but that it could not be turned without turn
ing the one above, if being square it were fixed in a square
hole in this upper stone ; the effect which he has supposed
follows infallibly. And therefore, his reasoning in this case
was not an assemblage of names according to a convention
which depends entirely on the fancy of men ; but a solid
and effective judgment on the nature of things through the
consideration of certain ideas which he had in his mind,
and which it has pleased men to represent by certain names.

We see therefore sufficiently what is understood by the
term idea, it remains to say a word or two of their origin.

The whole question resolves itself into this, — whether
all our ideas come to us through sense, and whether we
may accept, as true, that common maxim — nihil est in in-
tellectu quod non prius fuerit in sensu. This is the opinion of
a philosopher of repute, who commences his logic with this
proposition, — Omnis idea orsum ducit a sensibus. Every
idea takes its origin from sense. He confesses, however,
that all our ideas have not been in our sense in the same
form which they are in our mind ; but he maintains that
they have at least been formed from those which had come
through our sense, either by composition, as when, for in
stance, from the separate images of gold, and a mountain,
we form a mountain of gold ; or, by amplification and dimi
nution, as when, from the image of a man of ordinary sta
ture, we form a giant or a pigmy ; or, by accommodation
and analogy, as when, from the idea of a house which we
have seen, we form the image of a house which we have
not seen. " And thus," says he, " we conceive God, who
is not an object of sense, under the image of a venerable
old man." According to that opinion, though some of our
ideas might not resemble any particular body which we
had seen, or which had struck our sense, they would,
nevertheless, be all corporeal, and we could represent

CHAP. I.] IDEAS THEIR NATURE AND ORIGIN. 33

nothing which had not entered through sense, at least in
part. And thus we could conceive nothing but by means
of sensible images of those, to wit, which are formed in our
brain, when we see or imagine to ourselves some corporeal
object.

But, although this opinion is common to him with many
philosophers of the schools, I do not hesitate to say that
it is very absurd, and as contrary to religion as it is to true
philosophy ; for, to say nothing of its clearness, is there
anything which we perceive more distinctly than our
thought itself; or can any proposition be more clear than
this,—/ think, therefore, I am ? Now we cannot have any
certainty of this proposition, unless we conceive distinctly
what it is to be and what it is to think ; and it cannot be
demanded that we explain these terms, because they are
among the number of those which are so well understood
by all the world, that they would only be obscured by any
attempt at explanation. If, therefore, it cannot be denied
that we have within, ideas of being and of thought, I ask,
through what sense have they entered ? arc they luminous,
or coloured, that they have entered through sight ? of a
grave, or acute sound, that they have entered through
hearing ? of a good, or bad odour, that they have entered
through smell ? a good, or bad flavour, that they have
entered through taste ? cold or hot, hard or soft, that they
liave entered by touch ? and if it be said that they have
been formed from other sensible images, it may be asked,
what are those other sensible images, from which it is pre
tended that these ideas of being, and of thought, have been
formed, and how have they been formed, — by composition,
or by amplification, or by diminution, or by analogy ?
And if no reply can be given to these inquiries, which are
so reasonable, it must be confessed that the ideas of leim/
and thought do not, in the least, derive their origin from
sense, but that the mind has the faculty of forming for it
self these ideas, though it often happens that it is aroused
to do this by something which strikes the sense, as a
painter may be induced to make a picture, in consequence
of the sum which has been promised him, without being
able, on that account, to say that the painting had its ori
gin in money.

34 IDEAS — THEIR NATURE AND ORIGIN. [PART I.

But that which these same authors add, that the idea
which we have of God takes its rise from sense, because
we conceive him under the idea of a venerable old man, is
a notion worthy only of the anthropomorphites, or which
confounds the true ideas which we have of spiritual things
with the false imaginations which we form through the bad
habit of striving to imagine everything, whilst it is as ab
surd to try to imagine that which is not corporeal as it is
to endeavour to hear colour, or to see sounds.

To refute this opinion, it is only necessary to consider
that, if we had no other idea of God than that of a vener
able old man, all the judgments which we form of God
would be false, since they would be contrary to that idea ;
for we are naturally led to believe that our judgments are
false, when we see clearly that they are contrary to the
ideas which we have of things. And thus we could not
judge, with truth, that God has no parts, that he is not cor
poreal, that he is everywhere, that he is invisible, since
none of all this is in harmony with the idea of a venerable
old man. And if God is sometimes represented under this
form, it does not follow that we must have this idea of
him, since in this case we could have no idea of the Holy
Spirit but that of a dove, since he is represented to us in the
form of a dove ; or, we must conceive of God as a sound,
since the sound of the name helps to awaken within us the
idea of God.

It is false, therefore, that all our ideas come through
sense. On the contrary, it may be affirmed, that no idea
which we have in our minds has taken its rise from sense,
except on occasion of those movements which are made in
the brain through sense, the impulse from sense giving oc
casion to the mind to form different ideas which it would
not have formed without it, though these ideas have very
rarely any resemblance to what takes place in the sense
and in the brain ; and there are at least a very great num
ber of ideas which, having no connection with any bodily
image, cannot, without manifest absurdity, be referred to
sense.

And if any one objects, that at the same moment in
which we have an idea in the mind, of things spiritual, as
of thought, for instance, we form some bodily image at

CHAP. II.] IDEAS IX RELATION TO THEIR OBJECTS. oO

least of the sound which expresses it, this will not be at all
opposed to what we have already proved ; for that image
of the sound of the thought Avhieh we imagine is not the
representation of the thought itself, but only of the sound ;
and it helps us to conceive of it only inasmuch as the mind
being accustomed, Avhen it conceives the sound, to conceive
also the thought, forms at once an idea of the thought al
together spiritual, which has no natural relation to the
sound, and is connected with it by custom only. This is
seen in the case of the deaf, who, having no images of
sounds, have, nevertheless, ideas of their thoughts, at least
when they reflect on what they think about.

CHAPTER II.

OF IDEAS IX RELATION TO THEIR OBJECTS.

ALL that we conceive is represented to our mind, either
as a thing, or as a manner of a thing, or as a thin"- modi
fied.

I call a tiling that which we conceive as subsisting by
itself, and as the subject of all which we conceive of it.
This is otherwise termed substance.

I call manner of a tiling, or mode, or attribute, or (/i/alit//.
that which, being conceived in the thing, and as not able
to subsist without it, determines it to be of a certain fashion,
and to be so denominated.

I call a tiling modified when I consider the substance, as>
determined in a certain manner or mode.

This will be better comprehended by a few examples.
When I consider a lody, the idea which I have of it re
presents to me a thing, or a substance, because I consider
it as a thing which subsists by itself, and which needs no
other subject in order to exist. But when I consider that
this body is round, the idea which I have of roundness re-

CHAP. II.] IDEAS IN RELATION TO THEIR OBJECTS. 37

rally exist ; not that Ave cannot conceive the mode without
giving a distinct and express attention to its subject, but
what shows that the notion of relation to a substance
is involved, at least confusedly, in that of mode, is, that
we are not able to deny that relation of mode without de
stroying the idea which we had of it, whereas, when we
conceive two things as two substances, we may deny the
one of the other, without destroying the ideas which we
had of each. For example, I am able clearly to conceive
prudence without paying distinct attention to a man who
may be prudent ; but I cannot conceive prudence in deny
ing the relation which it has to a man, or to some other
intelligent nature which may have that virtue ; arid, on
the contrary, when I have considered all that belongs to
an extended substance, which is called body, as extension,
figure, mobility, divisibility ; and when, on the other hand,
I consider all that belongs to the mind, and to substance
Avhich thinks, as thinking, doubting, remembering, willing,
reasoning, I can deny of the substance extended all that I
conceived of the substance which thinks, without ceasing,
on that account, to conceive very distinctly the substance
extended, and all the other attributes which are joined to
it ; and I can reciprocally deny of the substance which
thinks, all that I have conceived of the substance extended,
and, nevertheless, conceive very distinctly all which I had
conceived of the substance which thinks. This proves,
likewise, that thought is not a mode of substance extended,
since extension, and all the purposes which belong to it,
may be denied of thought, while we are still able to con
ceive thought very clearly.

It maybe remarked, on the subject of modes, that there
are some which may be called internal, because they arc
conceived to be in the substance, as round, square ; and
others which maybe called external, because they are taken
from something which is not in the substance, as loved,
seen, desired, which are names taken from the actions of
another, — and this is what is called in the schools fkn(/ini-
nation c.ctt-rne ; and if these modes are taken from some
manner 'in which we conceive things, they are called second
intentions. Thus, being subject, being attribute, are second
intentions, because thev are modes under which we con-

38 THE TEN CATEGORIES OF ARISTOTLE. [PART I.

ceive things, which are obtained from the operation of the
mind, which has connected together two ideas in affirming
the one of the other. It may be remarked, further, that
there are some modes which may be called substantial,
because they represent to us true substances, applied to
other substances as their modes and manners ; clothed,
armed, are modes of this sort. There are others which
may be called simply, real; and these are the true modes,
which are not substances, but manners of substance. There
are, finally, some which may be called negative, because
they represent to us substance, with a negation of some
mode, real or substantial.

And if the objects represented by these ideas, whether
substances or modes, be really such as they are represented
to us, they are called true ; and if they are not such, they
are false, in the way which they may be, and these are
what are called in the schools beings of reason (entia rati-
onis), which consist commonly in the union which the
mind makes of two ideas real in themselves, but which are
not truly connected together so as to form a single idea ;
and as when we may form to ourselves a mountain of gold,
it is a being of reason, because it is composed of two ideas
— of a mountain, and of gold, which it represents as united,
though they are not really so.

CHAPTER III.

OF THE TEN CATEGORIES OF ARISTOTLE.

WE may bring under this consideration of ideas in relation
to their objects, the ten categories of Aristotle, since they
are only different classes to which that philosopher chose
to reduce all the objects of our thought, comprising all
substances under the first, and all accidents under the nine
others. They are the following : —

CHAP. HI.] THE TEN CATEGORIES OF ARISTOTLE. ^9

I. Substance, which is either spiritual or corporeal, &c.

II. Quantity, which is called discrete when the parts are
not connected, as number ; continuous, when they are con
nected, and then it is either — successive, as time, motion ;
or permanent, which is what is otherwise called space or
extension, in length, breadth, and depth; length alone
constitutes lines; length and breadth, surfaces; and the
three together, solids.

III. Quality, of which Aristotle makes four kinds :—
The first comprehends habits: that is to say, the dis
positions of mind or body which are acquired by repeated
acts, as the sciences, virtues, vices, skill in painting, writing,
dancing.

The second, natural powers : such are the faculties of the
mind or body — understanding, will, memory, the live senses,
the power of walking.

The third, sensible qualities: as hardness, softness, heavi
ness, cold, heat, colour, sound, smell, the different tastes.

The fourth, form or fly/ire: which is the external deter
mination of quantity, as to be round, square, spherical,
cubical.

IV. Relation, of one thing to another, as of father, of
son, of master, of servant, of king, of subject; of power to
its object ; of sight to that which is visible ; and all which
indicates comparison, as like, equal, larger, smaller.

V. Action, either in oneself, as walking, dancing, know
ing, loving ; or without oneself, as beating, falling, break
ing, lighting, warming.

VI. Passion, to be beaten, to be broken, to be lighted,
to be warmed.

VII. Where, that is to say, that which answers to the
questions respecting place, as to be at Home, at Paris, in
his cabinet, in his bed, in his chair.

VIII. When, that is to say, that which answers to the

THE TEN CATEGORIES OF ARISTOTLE. [PART I.

questions which relate to time ; as, When did he live ? A
hundred years ago. When was that done ? Yesterday.

IX. Situation, as sitting, standing, lying, before, behind,
to the right, to the left.

X, Habit, that is to say, what we have about one for
clothing, for ornament, for defence ; as, to be clothed, to
be crowned, to be sandalled, to be armed.

These are the ten categories of Aristotle, about which
there has been so much mystery, although, in truth, they
are in themselves of very little use, and not only do not
contribute much to form the judgment, which is the end
of true logic, but often are very injurious, for two reasons,
which it is important to remark.

The first is : — That we regard the categories as some
thing founded on reason and truth, whereas, they are alto
gether arbitrary, and are founded only in the imagination
of a man who had no authority to prescribe a law to others
who have as much right as lie to arrange, after another
manner, the objects of their thoughts, each according to
his method of philosophising. And, indeed, there are
some who have comprised, in the following distich, every
thing in the world which, according to the new philosophy,
wo are capable of considering : —

" Mons, im-risura, quips, iiiotus, positura, fijrurn,
Sunt cum nuvteriu euticturum oxordin rontni."

That is to 8ny, that those philosophers maintain that we
may explain everything in nature by considering these
noven things, or modes, alone.

1. MCII^ MI ml, or the substance which thinks.
11. 3/oteria, foxA/, or substance extended.

III. il/<w/mr, groutness or smallness of each part of

matter.

IV. Poitfura, thoir situation in relation to each other.
V. /Yt/Hw, thoir tiguro.

VI. Afotas, thoir motion.
VII. (Jttics, thoir rest, or lessor motion.

42 IDEAS OF THINGS AND SIGNS. [PART

CHAPTER IV.

OF IDEAS OF THINGS AND SIGNS.

WHEN we consider an object in itself, and in its own
nature, without extending the view of the mind to that
which it may represent, the idea we have of it is the idea
of a thing, as of the earth, of the sun ; but when we regard
a certain object only as representing another, the idea
which we have of it is the idea of a sign. It is in this
way that we commonly regard maps and pictures. Thus
the sign contains two ideas, one of the thing which repre
sents, another of the thing represented, and its nature con
sists in exciting the second by means of the first.

Various divisions of signs may be made, but we shall
content ourselves here with three, which are of the greatest
importance.

I. There are some signs which are sure, which are
called in Greek re/c^pta, such as respiration of the life of
animals ; and there are others which are only probable,
and which are called in Greek, cr^/zeta, as paleness is only
a probable sign of the pregnancy of women.

The majority of rash judgments arise from our confound
ing these two kinds of signs, and from our attributing an
effect to a given cause, when it may spring equally well from
other causes, and is thus only a probable sign of that cause.

II. There are signs which are connected with things, as
the expression of the countenance, which is a sign of the
emotions of the mind, is connected with those emotions
which it expresses ; symptoms which are the sign of disease
are connected with those diseases ; and, to have recourse
to higher examples, as the ark, a sign of the church, was
connected with Noah and his children, who were the true
church of that time. Thus our material temples, which
are signs of the faithful, or often connected with the faith-

CHAP. IV.] IDEAS OF THINGS AND SIGNS. 43

ful. Thus the dove, the image of the Holy Spirit, was
connected with the Holy Spirit. Thus, too, the water of
baptism, which is the figure of spiritual regeneration, is
connected with that regeneration.

There are also signs which are separated from things,
as the sacrifices of the ancient law, which are signs of the
offering of Christ Jesus, were separated from that which
they represented.

This division of signs enables us to establish the follow
ing maxims : —

1. That we are never able to reason certainly either
from the presence of the sign to the presence of the tiling
signified, since they are signs of things which are absent;
or^ from the presence of the sign to the absence of the
thing signified, since they are signs of things which are
present. ^ It is, therefore, by its own nature that the sign
must be judged.

2. That though a thing in one state cannot be a sign of
itself in the same state, since every sign requires a dis
tinction between the thing representing, and that which is
represented, it is nevertheless very possible that a thino- in
a certain state may represent itself in another state ; as it
is very possible that a man in his chamber may represent
himself preaching; and that thus the only distinction
necessary between the thing signifying, and the thing si«--
nified, is that of state : — that is to say, that a thing may be
in one state a thing signifying, and in another a thing
signified.

3. That it is very possible that one thing may hide and
reveal another thing at the same time, and that thus those
who have said that nothing is -made manifest l>j that u-hich
hides it, have advanced a maxim far from true ; for since
the same thing may be at the same time both a thing and
a sign, it may obscure, as a thing, that which it reveals as
a sign ; thus the warm ashes hkle the fire as a thing, and
reveal it as a sign ; thus the forms assumed by angels hide
them as things, and reveal them as signs ; thus the eucha-
ristic emblems hide the body of Jesus Christ as a thing,
while they reveal it as a symbol.

4.^ We may conclude that since the nature of the sign
consists in exciting in the sense by means of the idea of

44 IDEAS IN RELATION TO THEIR SIMPLICITY, ETC. [PART I.

the thing signifying, that of the thing signified, that so long
as that effect remains — that is to say, so long as that double
idea is excited — the sign remains, even though the thing in
its proper nature be destroyed. Thus it matters not
whether the colours of the rainbow which God has taken
as a sign that he would no more destroy the human race
by a flood, be true and real, provided that our senses
always receive the same impression, and that we are
enabled by this impression to realise God's promise ; in
the same way it matters not whether the bread of the
Eucharist remains in its proper nature, provided that it
always excites in our sense the image of that bread which
enables us to conceive in what way the body of Jesus
Christ is the nourishment of our souls, and how the faithful
are united to each other.

III. The third division of signs is that of natural ones,
which do not depend on the fancies of men, as an image
which appears in a mirror is a natural sign of that which
it represents ; and of others which exist only from institu
tion and establishment, and which have only a distant
relation to the thing signified, or it may be, none at all.
Thus words are by institution the signs of thought, and
characters of words. We shall explain, in treating of
propositions, an important truth in relation to these kinds
of signs, to wit, that we are able on some occasions to
affirm the thing signified.

CHAPTER V.

OF IDEAS IN RELATION TO THEIR SIMPLICITY OR COMPOSI
TION, IN WHICH THE METHOD OF KNOWING BY ABSTRAC
TION OR PRECISION IS CONSIDERED.

The remark made by the way, in Chap. II., that we
are able to consider a mode without making any distinct

CHAP, v.] IDKAS ix PJ-:LATION TO THEIR SIMPLICITY, ETC. 45

reflection on the substance of which it is the mode, fur
nishes us with an opportunity of explaining what is called
Mental Abstraction.

The limited extent of our mind renders us incapable of
comprehending perfectly things which are a little com
plex, in any other way than by considering them in their
parts, and, as it were, through the phases which they are
capable of receiving. This is what may be termed, gener
ally, knowing by means of abstraction.

But since things are differently compounded, and there
are some which are composed of parts really distinct,
as, for instance, the human body, the different parts of a
number ; it is in such cases very easy to conceive that our
mind can apply itself to consider one part without consider
ing another, since these parts arc really distinct ; and this
is not even called abstraction. Jt is, however, even in these
things so useful to consider the parts separately rather than
the whole, that without this, it is scarcely possible to have any
distinct knowledge. For example, what means have we of
obtaining a knowledge of the human body except by
dividing it into all its parts, similar and dissimilar, and
giving to each of these different names? All arith
metic is founded on this, — for there is no need of art in
order to reckon small numbers, since the mind is able to
comprehend them all at once ; thus the whole art consists
in counting by parts that which we are unable to count as
a whole, since it would be impossible, however comprehen
sive our mind might be, to multiply two numbers of eight
or nine figures each, taking them all together at once.

The second knowledge by parts, is when ire consider a
mode without paying attention to the substance, or two
modes which are united together in the same substance,
considering them each apart. This is what is done by the
geometers, who have taken as the object of their science,
body extended in length, breadth, and thickness. For in
order to obtain a better knowledge of it, they have first
applied themselves to the consideration of it, in relation to
one dimension alone, which is length ; and they have then
given to it the name of line. They have afterwards con
sidered it in respect to the two dimensions of length and
breadth, and have called it surface. And, finally, consider-

46 IDEAS IN RELATION TO THEIR SIMPLICITY, ETC. [PART I.

ing all three dimensions, length, breadth, and thickness
together, they have called it solid or body.

Hence it may be seen how ridiculous is the argument of
certain sceptics, who would call in question the certitude
of geometry, because it supposes lines and surfaces which
are not in nature ; for the geometers do not suppose that
there are lines without breadth, or surfaces without depth,
— they suppose only that we are able to consider length,
without paying attention to breadth ; and this is indubit
able, as when we measure the distance from one town to
another, we measure only the length of the road, without
troubling ourselves with its breadth.

Now, the more we are able to distribute things into
different modes, the more capable does the mind become
of obtaining a thorough knowledge of them ; and thus we
see, in relation to motion, that as long as the determination
towards a certain spot was not distinguished from the
motion itself, and from different parts even in the same
determination, so long no satisfactory account could be
given of reflection and refraction, which is now easily
accomplished by that distinction, as may be seen in the
second chapter of the Optics of Descartes.

The third way of conceiving things by abstraction is,
when a single thing, having different attributes, we think
of one without thinking of another, although there may
exist between them only a discrimination of reason ; and
this is brought about as follows : I consider, for example,
that I think, and that, consequently, it is myself that is
thinking, in the idea which I have of myself thinking, I
am able to confine my attention to a thing which thinks,
without paying any regard to the fact that it is myself,
although within me, myself and he who thinks may be
only one and the same thing. And thus the idea which I
have conceived of a person who thinks, will be able to
represent, not myself alone, but all other persons who
think. In the same way, having drawn on paper an equi
lateral triangle, if I confine myself to the consideration of
it in the place where it is, with all the accidents which
determine it, I shall have the idea of that triangle alone ;
but if I detach my mind from the consideration of all these
particular circumstances, and consider only that it is a

CHAP. VI.] IDEAS THEIR GENERALITY, ETC. 47

figure bounded by three equal lines, the idea which I form
of it will, on the one hand, represent to me more accurately
that equality of lines ; and, on the other, will be able to
represent to me all equilateral triangles. And if, not re
stricting my^lf to that equality of lines, but proceeding
further, I consider only that it is a figure bounded by three
right lines, I shall form an idea which will represent all
kinds of triangles. If, again, not confining myself to the
number of lines, I simply consider that it is a plane surface,
bounded by right lines, the idea which I form will repre
sent all rectilineal figures ; and thus, step by step, I am
able to ascend to extension itself. Now, in these abstrac
tions, we see 1 at the inferior degree always comprehends
the superior, to- ihcr with some particular determination. ;
as myself compr lends that which thinks, and equilateral
triangle comprt ends triangle, and triangle, rectilineal
figure ; but that the superior degree, being less determinate,
is able to represent a greater number of things.

Finally, it is clear that, by these abstractions, the ideas
of singular things become common, and the common, more
common ; and thus this gives us the opportunity of passing
to what we have to say concerning ideas, considered in
relation to their universality or particularity.

CHAPTER VI.

OF IDEAS, CONSIDERED IN RELATION TO THEIR GENERALITY,
PARTICULARITY, AND SINGULARITY.

ALTHOUGH all things that exist be singular, we are never
theless, by means of these abstractions which we have just
explained, enabled to have many sorts of ideas, some of
which only represent to us a single thing ; as the idea
which any one has of himself; — others being able equally
well to represent many ; as when any one has conceived a
triangle, without considering anything else respecting it.

46 IDEAS IN RELATION TO THEIR SIMPLICITY, ETC. [PART I.

ing all three dimensions, length, breadth, and thickness
together, they have called it solid or body.

Hence it may be seen how ridiculous is the argument of
certain sceptics, who would call in question the certitude
of geometry, because it supposes lines and surfaces which
are not in nature ; for the geometers do not suppose that
there are lines without breadth, or surfaces without depth,
— they suppose only that we are able to consider length,
without paying attention to breadth ; and this is indubit
able, as when we measure the distance from one town to
another, we measure only the length of the road, without
troubling ourselves with its breadth.

Now, the more we are able to distribute things into
different modes, the more capable does the mind become
of obtaining a thorough knowledge of them ; and thus we
see, in relation to motion, that as long as the determination
towards a certain spot was not distinguished from the
motion itself, and from different parts even in the same
determination, so long no satisfactory account could be
given of reflection and refraction, which is now easily
accomplished by that distinction, as may be seen in the
second chapter of the Optics of Descartes.

The third way of conceiving things by abstraction is,
when a single thing, having different attributes, ice think
of one without thinking of another, although there may
exist between them only a discrimination of reason ; and
this is brought about as follows : I consider, for example,
that I think, and that, consequently, it is myself that is
thinking, in the idea which I have of myself thinking, I
am able to confine my attention to a thing which thinks,
without paying any regard to the fact that it is myself,
although within me, myself and he who thinks may be
only one and the same thing. And thus the idea which I
have conceived of a person who thinks, will be able to
represent, not myself alone, but all other persons who
think. In the same way, having drawn on paper an equi
lateral triangle, if I confine myself to the consideration of
it in the place where it is, with all the accidents which
determine it, I shall have the idea of that triangle alone ;
but if I detach my mind from the consideration of all these
particular circumstances, and consider only that it is a

CHAP. VI.] IDEAS THEIR GENERALITY, ETC.

figure bounded by three equal lines, tlie idea which I form
of it will, on the one hand, represent to me more accurately
that equality of lines ; and, on the other, will be able to
represent to me all equilateral triangles. And if, not re
stricting myself to that equality of lines, but proceeding
further, I consider only that it is a figure bounded by three
right lines, I shall form an idea which will represent all
kinds of triangles. If, again, not confining myself to the
number of lines, I simply consider that it is a plane surface,
bounded by right lines, the idea which I form will repre
sent all rectilineal figures ; and thus, step by step, I am
able to ascend to extension itself. Now, in these abstrac
tions, we see that the inferior degree always comprehends
the superior, together with some particular determination;
as myself comprehends that which thinks, and equilateral
triangle comprehends triangle, and triangle, rectilineal
figure; but that the superior degree, being less determinate,
is able to represent a greater number of things.

Finally, it is clear that, by these abstractions, the ideas
of singular things become common, and the common, more
common ; and thus this gives us the opportunity of passing
to what we have to say concerning ideas, considered in
relation to their universality or particularity.

CHAPTER VI.

OF IDEAS, CONSIDERED IN RELATION TO THEIR GENERALITY.
PARTICULARITY, AND SINGULARITY.

ALTHOUGH all things that exist be singular, we are never
theless, by means of these abstractions which we have just
explained, enabled to have many sorts of ideas, some of
which only represent to us a single thing ; as the idea
which any one has of himself ;— others being able equally
well to represent many ; as when any one has conceived a
triangle, without considering anything else respecting it.

48 IDEAS THEIR GENERALITY, ETC. [PART I.

except that it is a figure containing three sides and three
angles, the idea which he has formed of it will enable him
to conceive all other triangles.

Those ideas which only represent a single thing are
called singular or individual, and the things they represent
individuals; and those which represent many individuals
are called universal, common, or general.

The names which we employ to mark the first are called
proper, as Socrates, Rome, Bucephalus ; and those which
are employed to mark the last, common, and appellative, as
man, town, horse ; and the universal idea, as well as the
common names, may be called general terms.

But it must be remarked that words are general in two
ways : One which is called univocal, which is, when they
are connected with general ideas, so that the same word
answers to many, both according to its sound, and accord
ing to the idea itself, with which it is connected ; such are
the words to which we have referred — man, town, horse.
The other, which is called equivocal, is when the same
sound has been joined by men to different ideas, so that
the same sound applies to many, not according to the same
idea, but according to different ideas with which it has
become connected through custom. Thus the word canon
signifies an engine of war, a decree of council, and an
article of dress ; but it also signifies these in relation to
ideas altogether different.

This equivocal universality is, nevertheless, of two kinds.
For the different ideas which are united to the same sound
have either no natural relation between themselves, as in
the word canon ; or they have some connection, as when a
word being principally united to an idea, we only join it
to some other idea, because it has some relation of cause,
or effect, or sign, or resemblance, to the first ; and these
kinds of equivocal words are then termed analogous, as
when the word healthy (sain) is attributed to an animal, to
the air, and to food ; for the idea united to this word is
principally health (sante), which applies only to an animal ;
but there is united to it another idea related to that, which
is being the cause of health, which leads us to say that
the air is healthy (sain), that food is healthy, because they
contribute to the preservation of health.

CHAP. VI. J IDEAS— THEIR GENERALITY, ETC. 49

When, however, we here speak of general terms, we
understand the v^ivocal, which arc united to universal and
general ideas.

Now, in these universal ideas there are two things, which
it is very important accurately to distinguish — COMPREHEN
SION and EXTENSION. I call the COMPREHENSION of an idea,
those attributes ivhich it involves in itself, and which cannot be
taken away from it without destroying it; as the comprehension
of the idea triangle includes extension, figure, three lines, three
angle?, and the equality of these three angles to two rigid
angles, <Jr.

/ call the EXTENSION <>f an idea those subjects to which that
idea applies, which are also called the inferiors of a general
term, which, in relation to them, is called superior, as the idea
of triangle in general extends to all the different sorts of tri
angles.

But although the general idea extends indistinctly to
all the subjects to which it belongs, — that is to say, to all
its inferiors, and the common name expresses them all, —
there is, nevertheless, this difference between the attributes
which it comprehends and the subjects to which it extends, that
none of its attributes can he taken a/way without destroying it,
as we have already said, • whereas ice may restrict it, as to its
extension, by applying it only to some of those subjects to ichich
it agrees, ivithout effecting its destruction by so doing.

Now this restriction or contraction of the general idea,
as to its extension, may be effected in two ways.

The first is, by joining to it another idea, distinct and
determined ; as when, to the general idea of triangle, I
add that of having a right angle, this restricts that idea to
a single species of triangle, which is the rectangled tri
angle.

The other is, by joining to it only an indistinct and
indeterminate idea of a part, as when I say some triangle. ;
the common term is then said to become particular, since
it extends only to a part of these subjects to which it
before extended, while it is, nevertheless, not determined
what that part is, to which it is thus restricted.

50 THE FIVE KINDS OP UNIVERSAL IDEAS. [PAKT I.

CHAPTER VII.

OF THE FIVE KINDS OF UNIVERSAL IDEAS GENUS, SPECIES,

DIFFERENCE, PROPERTY, ACCIDENT.

WHAT we have said in the preceding chapters enables us
to render intelligible, in a few words, the five Universals,
which are commonly expounded in the schools. For,
when general ideas represent to us their objects, as things,
and are marked by terms called substantive or absolute,
they are called genera or species.

G-ENUS. — Those are called GENERA, which are so com
mon that they extend to other ideas, which are yet themsekts
universal* ; as, quadrilateral is a genus in relation to paral
lelogram and trapezium ; substance is a genus in relation to
substance extended, which is called body, — and to sub
stance that thinks, which is called mind.

SPECIES. — And those common ideas which are under
one more common or general are called SPECIES ; as paral
lelogram and trapezium are species of quadrilateral ; body
andSmind, of substance. And thus the same idea may be
a cenus, when compared with other ideas to which it
extends, — and a species, when compared to another which
is more general. Thus body, which is a genus in relation
to body animate and inanimate, is a species in relation to
substance ; and quadrilateral, which is a genus in relation
to parallelogram and trapezium, is a species in relation to
figure.

'But there is another notion of the word species, which
is applicable only to ideas which cannot become genera :
this is the case when an idea contains under it only the
individual and the singular; as circle has under it only
individual circles, which are all of the same species. This
is Avhat is termed the lowest species (species infima). ^ And
there is a genus which is not a species, to wit, the highest
of all genera ; whether this genus be being, or whether it

CHAP. VII.] TUE FIVE KINDS OF UNIVERSAL IDEAS. 51

be substance, is a point of little consequence, and belongs
more to metaphysics than to logic.

I have said that the general ideas which represent their
objects to us as hings, are called genera or species; for it
is not necessary that the objects of these ideas be really
things and substances, — it is enough that we consider them
as things, inasmuch as, even where they are modes, we do
not refer them to their substances, but to other ideas of
mode, more or less general ; as figure, which is only a
mode in relation to figured body, is a genus in relation to
figures curvilineal and rectilineal, &c. And, on the con
trary, those ideas which represent their objects to us as
things modified, and which are expressed by terms adjec
tive or connotative, if we compare them with the substances
which these connotative terms signify confusedly, though
directly (whether, in truth, these connotative terms signify
essential attributes, which are, in reality, only the thing
itself, or whether they signify true modes), they are not
then called either genera or species, but differences, properties,
or accidents.

They are called differences, when the object of these
ideas is an essential attribute, which distinguishes one
species from another : as extended, heavy, reasonable.

They arc called. properties, when their object is an attri
bute, which belongs, indeed, to the essence of the thing,
but which is not the first we consider in that essence, but
only dependent on the first : as divisible, immortal, teach
able.

And they are called common accidents when their object
is a true mode, which may be separated, at least, by the
mind, from the thing of which it is termed the accident,
without destroying in our mind the idea of that thing : as
round, hard, just, prudent. This it is necessary to explain
more particularly.

DIFFERENCE. — When a genus has two species, the -idea
of each species must necessarily comprehend something icldch
z'x not comprised in the idea of the genus, otherwise, if each
contained only u-hat is comprised in the genus, there would
be only the genus; and, as the genus agree* with every
species, every species ivould agree icitJt each other. Thus

52

THE FIVE KINDS OF UNIVERSAL IDEAS. [PAKT I.

the first essential attribute, that each species comprehends
more than the genus, is called its DIFFERENCE, and the idea
which we have of it is a universal idea, because one and
the same idea may represent to us that difference wherever
we find it, that is to say, in all the inferiors of the specie*

Example.— pody and mind are two species of substance,
—it is, therefore, necessary that there be something more
in the idea of body than in that of substance, and abo in
that of mind. Now the first thing we see more in the bodv
extension, and the first thing we see more in spirit
is thought Thus the difference of body will be exten
sion, and that of mind, thought, that is to say, bodv will
be a substance extended, and mind a substance which
thinks.

Hence we may see, in the first place, that the difference
has two aspects— one io the genus, which it divides and
shares, another to the species, which it creates and consti
tute* making the chief part of that which is included in
the idea of species according to its comprehension ; whence

t happens that all species may be expressed by a single
name, as mind, body, or, by two words, viz., by that of

ie genus and that of its species united together. This is
what is termed definition: as substance extended, substance
which thinks.

We may see, in the second place, that since the differ
ence constitutes the species, and distinouishes it from other
species, it must have the same extension as the species —
and thus, that we must needs be able to affirm them re-
dprocally of each other, as everything that thinks is mind
and all that is mind, thinks.

It often, however, happens, that in certain things we
do not see any attribute— such that it agrees to the whole
4 a species, and to nothing but that species. In this case
we join several attributes together, the union of which
being only found in that species, constitutes its difference'
Ihus the Platonists, holding the demons to be rational
animals as well as man, found that the difference, rational
was not convertible with man, hence they added to it
another, mortal, which is not convertible with man
either, since it agrees also with beasts ; but the two to
gether agree with man alone. And we proceed in the

CHAP. VII.] TILE FIVE KINDS OF UNIVERSAL IDKAS. OO

same way, in the idea which we form to ourselves of the
majority of animals.

Finally, it may be remarked, that it is not always ne
cessary that the two differences which divide a genus be loth
positive ; it is sufficient if one be so, as two men are dis
tinguished from one another, if one has a commission which
the other has not, though he who has not the commission
may have nothing which the other has not. It is thus that
man is distinguished from the beasts in general, inasmuch
as man is an animal endowed with a mind, — animal
mente pra'ditum, — and that a beast is simply an animal
— animal memni ; — for the idea of beast, in general, involves
nothing positive which may not be in man ; there is only
joined to it the negation of that which is in man, to wit,
mind, so that ail the difference which exists between the
idea of animal and that of brute, is, that the idea of animal
does not involve thouglit in it* comprehension, but does not.
exclude it either, since it includes it in its extension ; where
as, the idea of brute excludes it in its con/prehension, and
thus cannot agree with an animal that thinks.

PROPERTY. — When ice have found the difference which
constitutes a species, that is to say, it* main essential attri
bute, which distinguishes it from all other species, if, con
sidering its nature more particularly, we, discover in it some
other attribute which is necessarily connected, with the first,
and which, consequently, agrees to the whole of that specie,
and, to that species alone — omni et soli — we denominate -it
PROPERTY, and expressing it by a connotative term, ice attri
bute it to t/ie species as its property. And since it agrees
with all the inferiors of the species, and that the single
idea which we have once formed of it will represent
that property wherever we may meet with it, we make
it the fourth of the terms common and universal.

Example. — To have a right angle is the essential differ
ence of a rectangular triangle ; and since it follows neces
sarily, in relation to a right angle, that the square of the
side which subtends it be equal to the squares of the tvvo
sides which contain it, the equality of these squares is re
garded as the property of a rectangular triangle, which is
common to all rectangular triangles, and to them alone.

54 THE FIVE KINDS OF UNIVERSAL IDEAS. [PAUT I.

The word property has, however, been sometimes ex
tended beyond this, and four species of it have been dis
criminated.

The first is that which we have explained — "quod con-
venit omni, et soli, et semper" — as it is the property of every
circle, of the circle alone, and always that the lines drawn
from the centre to the circumference be equal.

The second — " quod convenit omni, sed non soli" — as we
say that divisibility is the property of extension, since any
thing extended may be divided, although time, number,
and force, may be so also.

The third is — " quod convenit soli, sed non omni" — as it
belongs to man alone to be a physician or a philosopher,
though all men may not be so.

The fourth — " quod convenit omni et soli, sed non semper"
—an example of which is given in the changing of colour
of the hair to grey — canes cere — which is common to all
men, and to men alone, but only in old age.

ACCIDENT. — "We have already said, in the second chap
ter, that what is called a mode is that which can ^ only
exist naturally, by means of a substance, and which is not
necessarily connected with the idea of a thing, so that we
can easily conceive the thing without conceiving the mode,
as we can easily conceive a man without conceiving that
he is prudent ; but we cannot conceive prudence without
conceiving either a man or some other intelligent nature,
which may be prudent.

Now, when we connect a confused and indeterminate
idea of substance with a distinct idea of some mode, that
idea is capable of representing anything in which the mode
can exist : as the idea of prudent, all prudent men,— the
idea of round, all round bodies ; and then this idea, ex
pressed by a connotative term— prudent, round — makes the
fifth universal, which we call accident, since it is not
essential to the thing to which it is attributed ; for, if it
were, it would be difference or property.

But it must be noticed here, as we before said, that
when we consider two substances together, we may regard
one as a mode of the other. Thus a man dressed may be
considered as a whole made up of the man and his dress ;

CHAP. VIII.] COMPLEX TERMS 11110111 UNIVERSALITY, ETC. of>

but to be dressed is, in relation to the man, only a mode or
phase of existence under which we regard him, although
the parts of the dress may be themselves substances. And
thus to be clothed is simply a fifth universal.

This is more than sufficient touching the five universal*,
which are treated at such length in the schools. For it is
of very little consequence to knoAv that there are genera,
species, differences, properties, and accidents ; the main
thing is to recognise the true genera of things, the triK-
species of each genus, their true differences, their true
properties, and the accidents which may be attributed to
them. On this matter we shall throw some light in the
following chapter, after having, first of all, said something
of complex terms.

CHAPTER VIII.

OF COMPLEX TERMS, AXI) THEIR UNIVERSALITY OK
PARTICULARITY.

WE sometimes join to a term various other terms, which,
together, constitute in our minds a total idea ; and it often
happens that we can affirm or deny of the whole, what we
could not affirm or deny of the terms taken separately :
Examples of complex terms are — a prudent man, a trans
parent body, Alexander the son of Philip.

This addition is often made by the relative pronoun, as
if I say: — A body WHICH is transparent; Alexander, WHO it
the son of Philip ; the Pope, "WTIO is the vicar of Jesus Christ.
We may, indeed, say, that though the relative be not
always expressed, it is always in some sort understood,
since it may be expressed, if we will, without changing
the proposition ; for it is the same thing to say, — a body
transparent, or a body which is transparent.

What is most worthy of remark in these complex terms

56 COMPLEX TERMS-THEIR UNIVERSALITY, ETC. [PART I

individual conditions: as, when I siv TfopL -

CHAP. VIII.] COMPLEX TE1UIS — TIIEIK UNIVERSALITY. KTC. 57

The last arc those, one of whose terms is not expressed,
but understood simply : as when we say, in France, Tin,
king, it i.s a complex term in meaning, because we have in
our minds, in pronouncing the word king, not only the
general idea which answers to that term, but we men
tally add thereto the idea of Louis XIV., who is now king
of France. There are a multitude of terms in the ordi
nary discourse of men which are complex in this way, — as
the name of master in each family, &c.

There are words, even, which are complex in expression
on one account, and also in meaning on another : as when
we say, The prince of philosophers, there is a complex term
in the expression, since the word prince is determined by
that of philosopher; but in relation to Aristotle, who is
denoted in the schools by this word, it is complex in
meaning only, since the idea of Aristotle is in the mind
alone, without being expressed by any sound which dis
tinguishes him in particular.

All connotative or adjective terms are either /.-arts of a
cntuplex term, when their substantive is exiire^et/, or are
complex in meaning, when it is understood; for, as was
said in Chapter II., these connotative terms denote, directly,
though mure confusedly, a suhject, — and indirectly, though
more distinctly, the form or made ; and thus the subject is
only an idea very general and confused, sometimes of a
being, sometimes of a body, which is more commonly
determined by a distinct idea of the form which is joined
to it : as, (Mum signifies a thing which has whiteness,
which determines the confused idea of a thing to represent
those only which have that quality.

But what is more remarkable in these complex terms
is, that there arc some which are determined, in /v«/zV//.
to a single individual, and which still preserve a cer
tain equivocal universality, which may be called an equi
vocation through mistake, because men, still agreeing
that the term signifies only a single thing, for want of
clearly discriminating what that single thing really is,
apply it, some to one thing, some to another, which makes
it necessary for it to be still determined, either by various
circumstances or by what follows, in order that we may
know exactly what it means. Thus the word true religion.

58 COMPLEX TERMS THEIR UNIVERSALITY, ETC. [PART I.

signifies a single and unique religion, which is in reality
the Catholic, it being the only one which is true. But
since each body and each sect believes that its own reli
gion is the true one, this word is very equivocal, though
by mistake, in the mouths of men. And when we read in
a history that a prince was zealous for the true religion,
we cannot say what was intended thereby, unless we know
what was the religion of the historian ; for, if he was a
Protestant, it would mean the Protestant religion ; if it
was a Mohammedan Arab, who spoke thus of his prince,
it would refer to the Mohammedan religion ; and we could
not determine that it was the Catholic religion unless we
knew that the historian was a Catholic.

The complex terms which are thus equivocal through mis
take, are principally those which involve qualities of
which the senses do not judge, but the mind only, on
which men may easily have different opinions. If I say, for
example, that only men of six feet high were enrolled in
the army of Marius, the complex term, men of six feet, is
not liable to the equivocation through mistake, since it is
very easy to measure men, in order to determine if they
are six feet ; but if it had been said that only valiant men
should be enrolled, the term valiant men would have been
more subject to the equivocation through mistake, that is
to say, to be attributed to those men who were thought to
be valiant, and were really not so.

The terms of comparison are also very subject to be
come equivocations through mistake : — the greatest geome
ter of Paris — the most learned man — the most dexterous
— the richest; for though these terms may be determined by
individual conditions, there being only one man who is the
greatest geometer in Paris, that word may, nevertheless, be
easily attributed to many, though it belongs only in reality
to one, because it is very easy for men to be divided
in opinion on this subject, and that thus each will give
that name to the man whom he believes to be superior to
the others.

The words, meaning of an author — doctrine of an author
on suck a subject — are also of this number, especially when
an author has been so wanting in clearness, as to render
it a matter of dispute what his opinion was, as we see the

CHAP. VIII. J COMPLEX TERMS— TIIEIK UXIVKRSAUTV, KTC. :>$

philosophers continually dispute about the opinions of
Aristotle, each dragging him to his own side ; for though
Aristotle had only a single and unique sense on a given
subject, nevertheless, as he is differently understood, these
words, opinion of Aristotle, are equivocations through mis
take, because each calls the opinion of Aristotle that which
he understands to be his true opinion; and thus, one under
standing one thing, and another another, the terms.
opinion of Aristotle on such a subject, however individual
they may be in themselves, will 'belong to many things,
viz., to all the different opinions which "may be attributed
to him,— and they will express in the mouth of each person
that which each may conceive to be the opinion of that
philosopher.

But in order to understand better in what consists the
equivocations in these terms, which we have called equi
vocations through mistake, it must be remarked that //«>.«;
words are connotatives, either expressly or in signification.
Now, as we have already said, we ought to consider, in
connotative words, the subject which is ' direct!;/, but con
fusedly expressed, and the form or mode which 'is distinctly,
though indirectly, expressed. Thus white signifies a, body'
confusedly ; and whiteness, distinctly. Opinion of Aris
totle signifies, confusedly, some opinion, some thought,
some doctrine ; and distinctly, the relation of that thought
to Aristotle, to whom it is attributed. Now when there
happens any equivocation in these words, it is not pro
perly because of this form or mode, which, being distinct,
is invariable; nor is it because of the subject confused,
when it remains in that confusion. For example, the ex
pression prince of philosophers can never be equivocal, so
long as this idea— -prince of philosophers — is not applied to
any individual distinctly known; but the equivocation
happens solely because the mind, in the place of that sub
ject confused, often substitutes a subject distinct and deter
minate, to which it attributes the form and mode ; for,
since men have different opinions on this subject, they may
give that quality to different persons, and denote them
afterwards by this word, which they believe belongs to
them, as formerly Plato was known by the name of prince
of philosophers, and noAV Aristotle.

60

COMPLEX TERMS — THEIR UNIVERSALITY, ETC. [PART I.

The expression, true religion, not being connected with
the distinct idea of any particular religion, and remaining
in its confused idea, is not equivocal, since it signifies only
that which is in fact the true religion. But when the mind
has joined that idea of true religion to a distinct idea of a
given particular form of worship distinctly known, that
expression becomes very equivocal, and signifies, in the
mouth of each body, the form of worship which it considers
as the true.

It is the same, also, with these words — opinion of such a
philosopher on such a subject — for, remaining in their general
idea, they signify, simply and generally, the doctrine which
this philosopher had taught on that subject, as that which
Aristotle taught on the nature of the soul — id quod sensit
talis scriptor — and this id, that is to say, this doctrine, re
maining in its confused idea, without being applied to a
distinct idea, these words are not at all equivocal ; but
when, in place of that id confused, of that doctrine con
fusedly conceived, the mind substitutes a distinct doctrine
and a distinct subject, then that term will become equivo
cal, according to the various distinct ideas which may be
substituted for it. Thus the opinion of Aristotle, touching
the nature of the soul, is an equivocal expression in the
mouth of Pomponacius, who maintained that he believed
it mortal ; and in the mouths of many other interpreters of
that philosopher, who maintained, on the contrary, that he
believed it immortal, as well as his masters, Plato and
Socrates. And hence it happens that these kind of words
may often express a thing to which the form, indirectly
expressed, does not belong. Supposing, for example, that
Philip had not been really the father of Alexander, as
Alexanderhimself wished to have itbelieved, the expression,
son of Philip, which signifies, generally, one who was be
gotten by Philip, being applied through mistake to Alex
ander, would signify a person who was not truly the son
of Philip.

The expression, sense of Scripture, being applied by a
heretic to an error contrary to Scripture, would signify,
in his mouth, that error which he believes to be the sense
of Scripture, and which he will, in that opinion, call sense
of Scripture. Hence the Calvinists are not more Catholic

C1IA1'. IX.] IDEAS— THEIR CLEARNESS, ETC. 61

for protesting that they follow only the Word of God,
for these words — Word of God — signify, in their mouth,
all the errors which they falsely take to be the Word
of God.

C II AFTER IX.

OF THE CLEARNESS AND DISTINCTNESS OF IDEAS AND OF
THEIR OiJSCUlUTY AND CONFUSION.

WE may distinguish, in any idea, the clearness from the
distinctness, and the obscurity from the confusion ; for we
may say that an idea is dear u-Iicn it strikes us sensibly,
though it may not be distinct, — as iiie idea of pain, strikes
us very sensibly, and on that account may be called clear,
and yet it is very confuted, since it represent* pain to in-;
as in the hand which is wounded, although it is »nlij in
the mind, We may, nevertheless, say, that every idea is
distinct, in so far as it is clear, and that the obscurity
arises only from the confusion : as, in the case of pain, the
single sensation which strikes us is clear, arid is also dis
tinct ; but what is confused, i. e., that the sensation i& in
our hand, is not clear to us.

Taking, therefore, as the same thing, the clearness and
distinctness of ideas, it is of great importance to examine
how the one are clear and the other obscure. But this will
be known better by examples than by any other way ; and
we may develop the principles of tiiose ideas which are
clear and distinct, and the principles of those which are
confused and obscure. The idea which each has of him
self, as something that thinks, is very clear; and, in this
way, also, the idea of everything which depends on our
thought, as judging, reasoning, doubting, ivishing, desiring,
feeling, imagining. We have also very clear ideas of sub
stance extended, and that which belongs to it, as tigure,
motion, rest ; for though it is possible for us to pretend
that we have no idea either of body or figure, which we

f>2 IDEAS THEIR CLEARNESS, ETC. [PART I.

cannot pretend of the substance which thinks, so long
as we are thinking — yet we are not able to hide from our
selves, that we conceive clearly of extension and figure.

We conceive, also, clearly — being, existence, time, order,
number — provided we consider only that the duration of
each thing is a mode, or phase, under which we consider
that thing, so long as it continues to be ; so that thus order
and number are not different in fact from the things which
are ordered and numbered. All these ideas are so clear,
that, often wishing to make them more clear, and not being
satisfied with those which we form naturally, we obscure
them. We may say, also, that the idea which we have of
God, in this life, is clear in one sense, though it may be
obscure and very imperfect in another. It is clear, since
it suffices to reveal to us in God a very great number of
attributes which, we are assured, can be found in God
alone ; but it is obscure, if we compare it with that which
the blessed in heaven have of Him ; and it is imperfect, in
that our mind, being finite, is able to conceive an infinite
object only very imperfectly. But the conditions of an
idea's perfection are different from those of its clearness, for
it is perfect when it represents to us all that is in its ob
ject, and it is clear when it represents to us enough for
forming a clear and distinct conception of it.

Confused and obscure ideas are those which we have of
sensible qualities, as of colour, of sound, of smell, of taste,
of cold, of heat, of weight, &c. ; as also of our appetites,
of hunger, of thirst, of bodily pain, &c. ; and we may ex
plain the cause of confused ideas as follows : — As we have
been children before we were men, and as external things
have acted on us, causing different sensations in our mind,
by the impressions which they made on our body, the
mind, which sees that it was not through its own will that
these sentiments were excited in it, but that it had them onlv
in connection with certain bodies, as when it was conscious
of heat in approaching the fire, was not satisfied with judg
ing therefrom that there was something without it which
had been the cause of these sensations, in which it would
not have been deceived ; but it has gone further in believ
ing, that what was in these objects was perfectly like the
sensations, or ideas, which were excited on occasion of

CHAP. IX.] IDEAS—THEIR CLEARNESS, ETC. (!3

them,— and from these judgments it has formed ideas of
them, by transferring the sensations of heat, of colour, &c
to the things themselves, which are without it, And 'these
are those confused and obscure ideas which we have of
sensible qualities, the mind having added its false jud«--
ments to that which nature reveals to it.

And as these ideas are not natural but arbitrary, there
is great inconsistency amongst them ; for though heat and
burning are only two sensations,— one feebler, and the
other stronger,— we have placed heat m the fire, and we
have said that the fire has heat, but we have not placed
there burning, or the pain which is felt on approachin«-
too near it ; neither have we said that the fire has pain.
But though men have seen clearly that pain is not in the
fire which burns the hand, they have still been deceived
in believing that it is in the hand that the fire burns,
whereas, when considered aright, it is only in the mind,
although on occasion of what takes place in the hand, since
pain of body is nothing else but a feeling of aversion which
the mind conceives at some movement contrary to the
natural constitution of its body.

This has been confessed, not only by some ancient
philosophers, as the Cyrenaics, but also by St Augustine
in several places. " Those pains," says he (in the xiv. book
of the " City of God," cap. 15), " do not arise from the body,
but from the mind, which is in the body and on account
of the body. Dolores qni dicuntnr carnis, animcn suat in
came, et e.c came; for pain of body," he adds, "is nothing
else but a grief of mind on account of its body, and the op"-
position to that which has been done in the body, as the
pain of mind, which we call sorrow, is the opposition
which the mind feels to those things which happen con
trary to its pleasure. Dolor carnis tantum modo o/ensio est
annnce ex came, et qucedam ab ej/ts passione dlssensio ; sicuti
animoi dolor, qua tristiticK nuncupating dissensio est ab his
rebus, qua; nobis noletitibus decider ant" And in the vii. book
of Genesis, in the note, cap. 19, the repugnance which the
mind feels at seeing that the action through which it
governs the body is impeded by some disturbance which
is made in its temperament, is what is called pain. " Cum
afflictioms corporis moleste sensit (anima) actionem suam, qua.

64 IDEAS — THEIR CLEARNESS, ETC. [PART I.

illi regendo adest, turbato ejus temperamento impedire offenditur
et hcec offensio dolor vocatur"

In fact, that which shows us that the pain which we call
corporeal is in the mind, not in the body, is, that the same
things which occasion us pain when we think of them,
cause none when our mind is strongly occupied elsewhere,
as that priest of Calamis, in Africa, of whom St Augustine
speaks in the xiv. book of the " City of God," cap. 24, who,
as often as he wished, could so alienate himself from sense
that he would remain as though dead, and not only was
not conscious when they pinched or pierced him, but even
when they burnt him. " Qui quando ei placebat, ad imi-
tatas quasi lamentcmtis hominis voces, ita se auferebat a seiisi-
bus, etjacebat simillimus mortuo, ut non solum vellicantes atque
pungentes minime sentiret, sed aliquando etiam igne ureretur
adtnoto, sine allo doloris sensu, nisi post modum ex vulnere"

It must be remarked, further, that it is not properly the
injured state of the hand, and the change which the burn
ing causes in it, which makes the mind conscious of pain,
but that that movement must be communicated to the brain
by means of the small fibres contained in the nerves, as in
tubes, which are extended as small threads from the brain
to the hand and the other parts of the body, so that when
these small fibres are stirred, that part of the brain also,
whence they derive their origin, is agitated ; and this is
why, if any obstruction prevents these threads of nerves
from communicating their movement to the brain, as is the
case in paralysis, a man may see his hand cut and burnt
without being conscious of any pain ; and, on the con
trary, what appears strange enough, he may have what is
called pain in the hand without possessing a hand at all,
as it happens very often to those who have their hand cut
off, because the fibres of the nerves which extended from
the hand to the brain, being excited by some movement
about the elbow, where they terminated when the arm was
cut off, are still able to affect that part of the brain to which
they are attached in the same manner as before, when they
extended clown to the hand, as the extremity of a cord can
be agitated in the same way by pulling it at the middle as
at either end. And this it is which causes the mind to feel
the same pain then, as it felt when the limb was perfect,

CHAP. IX.] IDEAS— THEIR CLKARXESS, ETC. 65

because it excites its attention, at the place in the brain
e the movement was accustomed to conic, as what
we see in a mirror appears to us in the place where it would
have been, if it had been seen by direct rays, because that
the most common manner of viewing objects.
And this will enable us to show how very possible it is
that a mind separated from the body may be tormented by
•e either ot hell or of purgatory, and that it may feel the
ie pain as we feel when we are burnt, since, even when
it was in the body, the pain of the burning was in it, and
not in the body, and was, indeed, nothing else but a thought
>f sadness which it felt on occasion of what happened* in
body to which God had united it. Why, therefore,
may we not conceive that the justice of God may so dis
pose a certain portion of matter in regard to a mind, as
that the movement of that matter may be an occasion to
that mind of afflictive thoughts, which is all that can hap
pen to our minds in corporeal pain ?

But to return to confused ideas. That of wei'/ht, which
seems so clear, is no less confused than the others of which
we have to speak, for children, seeing that stones and such
like things fall to the ground as soon as they ceased to hold
them, have formed from this the idea of a thins that falls,
which idea is natural and true, and further, of some cause
of that fall, which is also true. But because they see
nothing but the stone, and not that which impels it,* by a
hasty judgment they have concluded that what they saw
not, was not, and that thus the stone fell of itself by an in
ward principle, without there being anything else to impel
it downward, and it is to this confused idea, which arose
only from their error, that they have attached the name of
gravity, or iceiyht.

For, as they have seen stones which fall down towards
the earth of themselves, they have seen also straws which
move towards amber, and small pieces of iron or steel,
which move towards the magnet. They have, therefore,
as much^ reason to place a quality in the straws and in the
iron, which moves them towards the amber or the matrnet,
as in the stones to move them towards the earth. Never
theless^ they have not cho-scn to do so ; but they have
placed in amber a quality for attracting straws, and one

IDEAS-THEIE CLEARNESS, ETC. [PAKT 1

SSSra^^A^^tt

woignc, nom a false reasoning which Ins 1™1 ™a u

tor these ideas arise

arise simply from our

SHH?

even true, m one sense, that when filled with air "t,

for

^«sdt

the Socinians; for none of these

SH

ics, that our mind is a subtile flame, rejects/aT

CHAP. IX.] • IDEAS— THEIR CLEARNESS, ETC. f>7

untenable absurdity, the idea that it could be of earth, or a
gross air : Quid enim, obsecro te ; terrane tibi aut hoc ncbu-
loso, aut caliyinoso ccelo, Sato, aut concreta esse videtur tanta vis
memorial! But they believed that, in subtilising this
material, they rendered it less gross, less material ; and
that at length it might become capable of thinking, which
is a ridiculous fancy. For one matter is not more subtile
than another, except that, in being divided into parts
smaller and more agitated, it makes, on the one hand, less
resistance to other bodies, and, on the other, more easily
insinuates itself into their pores ; but, divided or not
divided, agitated or not agitated, it is not on that account
less material, or less corporeal, or more capable of think
ing ; since it is impossible to imagine that there is any
relation between the motion, or figure of matter, subtile or
gross, with thought ; or that a matter which did not
think when it was in repose, as the earth, or in moderate
motion, as the water, could come to know itself when
agitated somewhat more, and had received three or four
additional boilings.

We might extend this subject much further, but this is
sufficient to enable us to understand all other confused
ideas, which almost all of them arise from some causes
similar to those which we have mentioned. The only way
of remedying this inconvenience is, to throw aside the
prejudices of our youth, and to believe nothing which is
within the province of that reason through which we have
judged of it before, but only through that which we judge
of it now. Thus we shall arrive at natural ideas; and in
relation to those which are confused, we shall retain some
thing clear : as, that in the fire there is something which
is the cause of our feeling warmth, and that all things
which are called heavy arc impelled downwards by some
cause, — determining nothing as to what the cause may be,
Avhich, in the fire, occasions this feeling in us — or in the
stone, which makes it fall to the earth, — unless we have
clear reasons, affording us the knoAvledge of these things.

68

EXAMPLES OF OKSCURE AND CONFUSED [PART i.

CHAPTER X.

SOME EXAMPLES OF OBSCURE AND CONFUSED IDEAS TAKEN
FROM MORALS.

°°d and evil bei-= *

n°°d

or ob-

OB

69

CHAP. X.J IDEAS TAKEN FROM MORALS.

In order to unfold these, it would be necessary to eo
through a complete course of morals ; but we intend here
mly to ;ive some examples of the manner in which they
are formed, in joining together a great number of different
ideas which are not connected in reality, of which we make
.ose vain phantoms after which men run, and by which
they are rendered miserable all their lives

Man finds in himself the idea of happiness and misery;
and this idea is neither false nor confused so Ion- as it
remains general. He has also ideas of smallness and
greatness, of baseness and excellence ; he desires happi
ness, he slums misery ; he admires excellence, he despises
baseness.

^ But the corruption of sin, which separates him from
trod, in whom alone he can find his true happiness, and
o whom alone, therefore, he ought to attach the idea of
j him to connect it with a multitude of things
into the love of which he is precipitated, in order to seek
there that happiness which he had lost; and hence it is
t he forms a multitude of obscure and false ideas in
representing to himself all the objects of his love as able
render him happy, and those which deprive him of
them, as rendering him miserable. In the same way he
has lost, through sin, true greatness and true excellence-
thus he is constrained, in order to love himself to
represent to himself another, which is not so in reality —
3 from himself his misery and his poverty, and to in-
ude in his idea of happiness a great number of things
entire y separated from it, to the end that he may elorify
f and become great; and the ordinary course of
these false ideas is as follows :—

The first and principal tendency of concupiscence is
s the pleasures of sense which arise from certain
:ernal objects; and when the mind perceives that the
isure which it loves comes to it from these tiling it
immediately connects with them the idea of good, aiufthat
of evil to what deprives it of them ;-then, seeing that
riches and human power are the common means of en-
it to possess the objects of its desire, it be-ins to
consider them as great goods; and, consequently; con
fers the rich and the great, who possess these things,

EXAMPLES OF OBSCURE AND CONFUSED [PART I.

happy,— and the poor, who are deprived of them, miser-

Now, since there is a certain excellence in happiness
the soul never separates these two ideas, and it considers
always as great those whom it reckons to be happy, and
as small those whom it considers poor and miserable; and
this is the reason of the contempt which is shown to the
poor, and the honour which is done to the rich These
judgments are so unjust and false, that St Thomas believes
that it is this respect and esteem for admiration that is
condemned so severely by the apostle St James, when he
forbids the giving of a seat more elevated to the rich than
<o the poor in religious assemblies; for that passa-e can
not be understood to the letter as a reproof for rendering
a certain external respect to the rich rather than to the
poor, since the order of the world, which religion does not
disturb, allows these preferences, and even saints them
selves have practised it; it appears that we ou^ht to
understand it as that inward preference which causes us
to regard the poor as under the feet of the rich, and the
rich as infinitely superior to the poor.
> But though these ideas and these judgments, which arise
in the soul, are false and unreasonable, they are, neverthe
less, common to all men who have not corrected them
since they are produced through the concupiscence by
which they are all infected. And hence it happens that
we not only form these ideas of rich men, but we know
also that others have for them the same feelings of respect
and admiration; so that we consider their state not only
surrounded with all pomp, with all the advantages which
are connected therewith, but also with all those favourable
judgments which we have formed of riches, and which we
know by the common discourse of men, and by our own
experience.

It is properly this phantom, composed of all the admirers
of the rich and of the great, which we conceive surrounds
their throne, and regards them with sentiments of inward
tear, of respect, and of abasement, which makes the idol
of the ambitious, for which they labour all their life Ion"
and expose themselves to so many dangers.

And to show what it is they seek after 'and worship, it

IDKAS TAKEX FliOM MOKALS. 7]

needs only to be considered, that if there were
world only one man who thought, and that ill tl '
of those who had the human fi-ure were Lf t
tons, and that, moreover, this0 single reasoi^n™ ™n"
knowing perfectly that all the statues which rctmS
him outwardly were entirely deprived of reason and
thought, knew, nevertheless, the secret of moving them bv
certain springs, and of obtaining from them all the services
which we obtain from men,— we could believe that he
wou d sometimes divert himself with the various move

hTpkalu^idS88^11- C01tail% ^ W°Uld Dever^

s not, therefore, the simple outward effects of the
respect of men separated from the consideration of the r
thoughtS3 which constitute the objects of love to the am
bitious ; they wish to command men, not automaton" and
their pleasure consists in seeing those movements of fear
of awe, and of admiration, which they excite in others

Hence we see that the idea which fills them is as vain
and as groundless as that of those who are properly calk

]° "? thoSe.7hich d<%»t tlUelvL wi
,. acclamations, titles, and other things of tint

ll thi"

f the feelings and judgments which They ddi^hTin
exciting; for, whereas vain men make it their aim

tTet elo^u ^ ^^ aiKl rCSpeCt f°r their knowledge!

-the ambitious wish to excite emotions of terror, of °re-
and of awe, for their greatness, and of ideas con

>nned to these opinions, by which men regard them as
terrible, o.xn tori ,«^i,+, -a... b-

,,]..„„ +1-1 . J J1IC illlu me otner

Heir happiness on the thoughts of others • but the
one chose certain thoughts-the other, others

I -e is nothing more common than to see these vain
phantoms, composed of the false judgments of men,

ive

EXAMPLES OF OBSCURE AND CONFUSED [PART 1.

,
™ Considered

greatest dangers is often
made by vain and empty
Few persons seriously
peai to face death at the

ow ' and **ve as the principal

object through the whole course of men's lives

W°rld> which
brave rush without fear into the

only the effect of the impression
ideas which fill their minds
despise life, and those who ap-
breach or in the battle, tremble

ifc Ettacks them

But that which produces the bravery which they mani-
t on such occasions, is, that they regard, on the one hand,
« rai enes which come to the coward, and, on the other
the flatteries winch are given to valiant men; and that
double phantom occupies their attention, and diverts them
from the consideration of dangers and death.

And this is the reason why those who have reason to

believe that men look at them, being more filled with the

thought of these opinions, are more valiant and more

Thus captains have commonly more courage than

soldiers, and gentlemen than those who are not so, because,

.IT-wf m(2e iTT".*0 lose than t° get, they are also more
sensibly affected by it. The same labours, said a rn-eat
captain, are not equally painful to a general of an army
1 to a soldier, because a general is sustained by the
judgments of a whole army, who have their eyes upon
him, whereas a soldier has nothing to sustain him but the
hope of a small reward, and the insignificant reputation of a
good soldier, which often does not extend beyond his own
company.

mat is it which those propose to themselves who build

magnificent houses far beyond their condition or their

It is not simply convenience which they seek

n this,— their excessive magnificence is a hindrance rather

than any nelp to this, and it is clear that if they were

alone in the world they would never take that trouble, or

f they believed that those who saw their houses would

view them only with feelings of contempt. It is, therefore

for men that they labour, and for the men who shall praise,'

they imagine that all those who look upon their palace will

leive emotions of respect and admiration for him who

CHAP. X.] IDEAS TAKEN FROM MORALS. 73

is the master of it ; and thus they represent themselves as
in the midst of their palace, environed by a crowd of people
who, from below, regard them as high above them, and
who judge them great, powerful, happy, magnificent ; and
it is for this idea, which fills them, that they put them
selves to so much expense, and take so much trouble. And
why is it, we may ask, that men load their carriages with
such a number of servants ? It is not for the services
which they render, for they inconvenience rather than
help them ; but it is to excite as they go, in those who be
hold them, the idea that a person of great state is passing ;
and the consideration of this idea, which they imagine may
be formed in viewing their carriages, satisfies the vanity of
those to whom they belong.

In the same way, if we examine all the states, all the
employments, arid all the professions which are esteemed
in the world, we shall find that that which renders them
agreeable, and that which recompenses the troubles and
the fatigues which accompany them, is, that they present
frequently to the mind the idea of emotions of respect,
of esteem, of fear, of admiration, which others have for
us.

On the contrary, that which renders solitude wearisome
to the majority of men is, that being separated from the
company of men, they are also separated from their judg
ments and thoughts. Thus their heart remains empty and
famished, being deprived of this usual nourishment, and
not finding ought in themselves to supply the void. And
it is on this account that pagan philosophers have con
sidered a solitary life insupportable ; so that they have
not hesitated to say that their wise men would not possess
every possible good of mind and body, on the tenure of
living alone, and never speaking with any one of his hap
piness. It is only the Christian religion which has been
able to render solitude agreeable, since, leading men to
despise these vain ideas, it gives them, at the same time,
other objects more fitted to occupy their minds, and more
worthy to fill their hearts, for which they have no need of
the society of, or intercourse with men.

But it is necessary to remark that the love of men does
not properly terminate in the knowledge of the thoughts

E

74 EXAMPLES OF OBSCURE AND CONFUSED IDEAS. [PAKT I.

and the feelings of others, but that they employ these only

to aggrandise and heighten the idea which they have of

themselves, in joining to it, and incorporating with it, all

iese extraneous ideas; and they imagine, by a gross

illusion, that they are really greatest, because they dwell

the greatest house, and because they have there more

people who admire them ; although all these things which

are without them, and all these opinions of other men, add

thing to them-leaving them as poor and miserable as

tney were before.

We may hence discover what it is that renders many
things pleasant to men, which appear to have nothing in
themselves which would be capable of diverting or of
pleasing them; for the reason of the pleasure they take in
such things is, that the idea of themselves which is repre
sented to them is greater than is common, by some vain
circumstance which they have added to it We take
pleasure in speaking of the dangers through which we
have passed because we represent to ourselves, by means
of these accidents, an idea which makes us appear, either
is prudent, or as particular favourites of God. We love
) speak of diseases of which we are cured, because we
represent ourselves as having strength enough to resist the
greatest evils.

We desire to obtain advantage in every thing, and even
in games of chance, in which there is no skill, even when
we do not play for gain, since we join to the 'idea of sue-
that of happiness ; it seems as though fortune had
made choice of us, and that we had become her favourites
in consequence of our merit. We even conceive this pre
tended good fortune as a permanent quality, which may
give us the right to hope for the same success in future-

1 hence it is, there are some whom players choose, and
with whom they love rather to connect themselves than
with others, which is perfectly ridiculous ; for we may say
well enough, that a man has been successful up to a certain
moment, but for the moment after there is no greater pro
bability, on that account, that he will be so, than those
who have been less fortunate.

Thus the mind of those who love only the world has for

object only vain phantoms, which miserably amuse and

CHAP. XI.] CAUSE OF CONFUSION IN THOUGHTS. 75

occupy it; and those who have the reputation of bei
wiser only fill themselves, even as others, with IS
and dreams Those alone who join their life and ac ons
to eternal tilings can be said to have a substantial object
•ea and material; it being true with regard to all other '

±Vf7-/°Vermtyand "othinS'^s> a«d that they run
alter falsity and error.

CHAPTER XL

OF ANOTHER CAUSE WHICH INTRODUCES CONFUSION INTO
)UR THOUGHTS AND DISCOURSES, WHICH IS, THAT WE
ATTACH THEM TO WORDS.

WE have already said that the necessity which we have
>r employing outward signs in order to make ourselves

understood, causes us so to attach our ideas to word* that

we often consider the words more than the things, 'kow

this is one of the most common causes of the confusion of

our thoughts and discourse.

For it must be remarked, that though men have often

different ideas of the same things, they employ, neverthe
less, the same words to express them ; as the idea which a
pagan philosopher has of virtue is not the same as that
which a theologian has of it, while, nevertheless, each
expresses his idea by the same word, virtue

Further, the same men, in different ages, have consi-

leied the same things in very different ways, and have
nevertheless, always collected these various'ideas under -[
single name; so that, on pronouncing that word, or in
learing it pronounced, we are easily perplexed, sometimes
taking it for one idea, sometimes for another. For ex
ample, man having perceived that he had in him some-
tang, whatever it might be, which effected his nourishment
and growth, called this soul, and extended that idea to

76 CONFUSION INTRODUCED INTO THOUGHTS [PART I.

what resembled it, not only in animals, but even in plants.
And having further seen that he thought, he further called
by the name of soul that which was the principle of thought
within ; whence it has happened, that through that re
semblance of name, he has taken for the same thing that
which thought, and that which caused the body to be
nourished and" to increase. In the same way, the word
life has been applied equally to that which is the cause of
animal activity, and to the thinking principle, which are
two things utterly different in their nature.

In the same way. there is much of equivocation in the
words sense, and sensations, even when these words are
taken only in relation to the five bodily senses ; for three
things commonly take place in us when we use our senses,
as when, for instance, we see anything. The first is —
that certain movements are made in the bodily organs, as
the eye and the brain ; the second — that these movements
give occasion to our mind of conceiving something, as
when following from the movement which is made in our
eye, by the reflection of light in the drops of rain opposite
the sun, it has the ideas of red, of blue, and of orange ;
the third is — the judgment we form of that which we see,
as of the rainbow, to which we attribute these colours,
and which we conceive of a certain size, of a certain
figure, and at a certain distance. The first of these three
things is in our body alone ; the two others only in our
soul, although on occasion of what passes in the body ;
and we nevertheless comprehend all three, although so
different, under the same name of sense, and sensations, of
sight, hearing, &c. For when we say that the eye sees,
that the ear hears, that cannot be understood simply in
relation to the movement of the bodily organ, since it is
very clear that the eye has no perception of the objects
which strike it, and that it cannot judge of them. We
say, on the contrary, that we have not seen a person who
is present before us, and who strikes our eyes, when we
have not noticed him. And then we take the word sight
for the thought which is formed in our soul, in conse
quence of what passes in our eye and in our brain ; and,
according to that signification of the word see, it is the
mind which sees, and not the body, as Plato maintains,

CHAP. XI.] BY ATTACHING THEM TO TVOKDS. 77

and Cicero after him, in these words : — " Nos enirn ne
nunc quidem oculis ccrnimus ea quiv vidcmus. Neque enini
est ullus scnsus in corpore. Vice quasi qurr>dam stint ad
oculos, ad aures, ad nares, a scde animce perforate. Itaque
scppe aut cogitations ant aliqufi vi morli impediti, apertis
atque integris, ct oculis, ct auribus, nee ridemus, nee audi-
mus : ut facile intelliffi possit, animum ct vidcre et audire,
non eas partes quce quasi fenestrce sunt aniini." Finally,
the words sense, sight, hearing, &c., are taken for the last
of these three things ; that is to say, for the judgment
which the mind forms from the perceptions which it has,
on occasion of that which takes place in the bodily organs,
when we say the senses are deceived : as, when we see in
the water a crooked stick, and when the sun appears to
us to be only two feet in diameter. For it is certain there
cannot be anything at all of error or of falsehood, either
in what passes in the bodily organ, or in the single per
ception of the soul, which is only a simple apprehension ;
but that all the error arises solely from our having judged
wrongfully, — in concluding, for example, that the sun was
only two feet in diameter, because its great distance makes
that image which is formed of it in the centre of our eye,
about the same size as that which would be formed there
of an object of two feet in diameter, placed at a certain
distance more proportionate to our common manner of
seeing. But since we have made this judgment from our
infancy, and arc so accustomed to it, that we make it at
the same instant in which we see the sun, with scarcely
any reflection, we attribute it to the sight, and say, that
we see objects greater, or smaller, according as they are
nearer or further away from us, although it is our mind,
and not our eye, which judges of their greatness or small-
ness.

All languages are full of a multitude of similar words,
which, having only a single sound, are nevertheless signs
of ideas altogether different. But it must be remarked,
that when an equivocal name signifies two things which have
no relation to each other, and which men have never con
founded in their thoughts, it is then almost impossible that
we can be deceived, and that it can become the cause of
any error, as no one, with any common sense, would be

78 REMEDY FOR THE CONFUSION OF THOUGHTS [PART I.

deceived by the ambiguity of the word ram, which signifies
an animal, and a sign of the zodiac. Whereas, when the
equivocation arises from the error of men themselves, who
have, by mistake, confounded diiferent ideas, as in the
word soul, it is difficult to be undeceived, since we sup
posed that those who first used these words thoroughly
understood them; and thus we often content ourselves
with pronouncing these, without ever examining if the
idea which we have of them is clear and distinct ; and we
attribute even to that which we call by the same word,
that which agrees only with ideas of things incompatible,
without perceiving that this arises only from our having
confounded two different things under the same name.

CHAPTER XII.

ON THE REMEDY OF THE CONFUSION WHICH ARISES IN OUR
THOUGHTS AND IN OUR LANGUAGE, FROM THE CONFUSION
OF WORDS, IN WHICH THE NECESSITY AND THE ADVAN
TAGE OF DEFINING THE TERMS WE EMPLOY, AND THE
DIFFERENCE BETWEEN THE DEFINITION OF THINGS AND
THE DEFINITION OF NAMES, IS EXPLAINED.

THE best way of avoiding the confusion of words which
is found in common language, is to make a new language
and new words, which may be attached only to those ideas
which we wish them to represent. But for this purpose
it is not necessary to make new sounds, since we may em
ploy those which are already in use by regarding them as
if they had no signification, in order that we may give
them that which we may wish them to have, by designat
ing, through other simple words, — about whose meaning
there is no ambiguity, — the idea to which we wish to apply
them ; as, for instance, I wish to show that the soul is im
mortal, the word soul being equivocal, as we have shown

CHAP. XII.] WHICH ARISES FROM G'OXFUSIOX OF WORDS. 79

it, may easily produce confusion from what I am about to
say; so, in order to avoid this, I would regard the word soul
as it it were a sound which had no meaning, and I would
apply it solely to that within us which is the principle of
thought, saying,—/ call soul that which is the principle of
thought within us.

This is what is called the definition of a name— definitio
nommu— which geometers have turned to such o-ood ac
count, and which it is necessary to distinguish from the
definition of a thing— definitio rei—for in the definition of
a thing, as, for instance, these— Man is a rational animal-
Time u the measure of motion,— we leave to the terms
which we define, as man, or time, their ordinary idea in
which we maintain that other ideas are contained, a«
rational animal, or measure of motion; whereas, in 'the
definition of a name, as we have already said, we regard
only the sound, and afterwards, we determine that sound
3 the sign of an idea, which we designate by other
words.

It is necessary, also, to take care not to confound the
definition of the name of which we here speak, with that
1 which some philosophers speak, who understand bv it
the explanation of that which a word signifies, according
to the common custom of a language, or according to i£
etymology.

Of this we shall speak in another place. But here we
regard, on the other hand, only the particular sense in
which he who defines a word wishes it to be taken, in
order that his thought may be clearly conceived, without
considering at all whether others take it in the same sense
And from this it follows :— 1st, That the definitions of
names arc arbitrary, and those of things are not so • for
every sound being indifferent in itself, and, by nature,
fatted equally well to express all sorts of ideas, 1 may be
allowed, for my own use, and provided I forewarn others
ot it, to determine a sound to signify precisely a certain
tiling, without any mixture of anything else ; but it is
quite otherwise with the definitions of things, for it does
not depend on the will of men that ideas should compre
hend all that they would wish them to comprise ; so that,
if, in wishing to define, we attribute to these ideas some-

80 REMEDY FOR THE CONFUSION OF THOUGHTS [PART I.

thing which they do not contain, we fall necessarily into
error.

Thus, to give an example of the one and of the other,
if, stripping the word parallelogram of all signification, I
apply it to signify a triangle. This is allowable, and I do
not commit any error, provided I take it exclusively in
this sense, and I shall then say that a parallelogram has
three angles, equal to two right angles. But if, leaving
to this word its ordinary signification and idea, which is
that of signifying a figure whose sides are parallel, I were
to say that a parallelogram is a figure with three lines —
as this would then be a definition of a thing — it would be
very false, it being impossible for a figure of three lines to
have its sides parallel.

It follows, in the second place, that the definitions of
names cannot be contested, because they are arbitrary ; for
we cannot deny that a man has given to a sound the sig
nification which he says he has given to it, neither that it
has that signification only in the use which he makes of it,
after we have been forewarned of it ; but, as to the defini
tions of things, it is often necessary to contest them, since
they may be false, as we have before shown.

It follows, in the third place, that every definition of a name,
since it cannot be contested, may be taken as a principle,
whereas the definitions of things cannot at all be taken as
principles, and are truly propositions which maybe denied
by those who find any obscurity in them, and which, con
sequently, must be proved, as other propositions, and not
taken for granted, at least when they are not evident of
themselves as axioms.

Nevertheless, what we have just said — that the defini
tion of a name may be taken for a principle — needs some
explanation. For this is only true, because we ought not
to dispute that the idea which has been designated may
not be called by that name which has been given to it.
But we ought not to infer anything further than this idea,
or believe, because we have given it a name, that it signi
fies anything real. For example, I may define a chimera,
by saying, — I call a chimera that which implies a contra
diction ; and yet it will not follow from this that a chimera
is anything, — in the same way as if a philosopher says to me,

CHAP. XII.J WHICH ARISES FROM CONFUSION OF WORDS. 81

-I call heaviness the inward principle which makes a
stone fal without being impelled by anything. I wiu not
contest tins definition; on the contrary, I will receive i
cheerfully, because it enables me to understand what he
wishes to say ; but I will deny that what he means by the
word heaviness is anything real, since there is no such
principle in stones.

I wished to explain this, since there are two Cre-U
abuses which are current on this subject in philosophy
1 -he first is, of confounding the definition of the thmgwith
the definition of the name, and of attributing to the. former
that which belong on!;, to the latter; for, bavin- niade -i
hundred definitions, not of names, but of things, to suit
their fancy, which are very false, and which do not explain
t all the true nature of things, nor the ideas which we
aturally have of them, they wish us then to consider these
efimtions as principles which none may contradict, and
winch if any one denies, as he may very easily, they pre
tend that he is not worth disputing with.

The second abuse is, that, scarcely ever employing the
definition of names, in order to remove that obscurity
which is in them, and fixing to them certain ideas clearly
described, they leave them m their confusion, whence it
happens that the greater part of their disputes are onlv
disputes about words ; and further, that they employ that
which is clear and true in confused ideas, in order to estab
lish that which is obscure and false, and which thev
would easily have perceived to be so, if they had defined
the names.

Thus philosophers commonly believe that there is nothing
in the world clearer than that fire is hot, and a stone
heavy and that it would be folly to deny this.— and, in
fact, they may persuade all men of this, so lono- as 'the

unes are undefined; but, on defining them, it will be
easily found _out, whether that which mav be denied on
this matter is clear, or obscure ; for it will then be de
manded of them, what they understand by the word hot,
by the word heavy. If they answer, that by heat thev
understand only that which really produces the sensation

heat in us, and by heavy, that which falls to the ground
when nothing upholds it, they have good ground for say-

82 REMEDY FOR CONFUSION OF THOUGHTS, ETC. [PART I.

ing, that it would be unreasonable to deny that fire is hot,
and a stone is heavy ; but, if they understand by heat, that
which has in itself a quality resembling what we imagine
when we feel heat, and by weight, that which has in itself
a principle which makes it fall towards the centre, without
being impelled by anything, it will be easy then to prove
to them, that to deny that in this sense fire is hot, and a
stone heavy, is not to deny a clear thing, but one that is
very obscure, not to say very false, since it is very clear
that the fire gives us a sensation of heat by the impression
which it makes on our body, but it is not at all clear that
the fire has anything in it which resembles what we feel
when we approach the fire ; and it is also very clear that
a stone descends when we let it fall, but it is not at all
clear that it descends of itself, without there being any
thing to impel it downward.

We may see, thus, the great utility of the definition of
names to enable us to understand exactly what is the point
at issue, — to the end that we may not uselessly dispute
about words which one understands in one sense, and an
other in another, as is so often the case in ordinary con
versations.

But, besides this utility, there is still another, which is,
that we often are not able to give a distinct idea of a thing,
except by employing many words to describe it. Now, it
would be wearisome, especially in books of science, to be al
ways repeating this long series of words. Hence it is, that,
having explained the thing by all these words, we attach
to a single word the idea which we have conceived, which,
in this way, takes the place of all the others. Thus, having
comprehended that there are some numbers which may be
divided into two equal parts, in order to avoid the constant
repetition of these terms, we give a name to that property,
saying, every number which is divisible into two equal
parts we call an even number. This proves that, whenever
we use the word which we have defined, we must mentally
substitute the definition for the word defined, and have
that definition so present, that, as soon as we mention it —
e. g. an even number — we understand exactly that which
is divisible into two equal parts, and that these two things
are so inseparably joined in thought, that as soon as Ian-

83

CHAP. XIII.] OBSERVATIONS ON DEFINITION OF NAMES.

guage expresses the one, the mind immediately attaches to it
the other; for those who define terms with so much care
as the geometers, do it only to abridge the language, which
uch frequent repetitions would render wearisome. Ne
assidiKc circumloquendo moms faciamus—as St Augustine
says ; but they have no intention of abridging the ideas
whereof they speak, since they suppose that the mind will
•supply a complete definition to the abbreviated terms which
they may employ, to avoid the embarrassment which a.
multitude of words would create.

CHAPTER XIII.

IMPORTANT OBSERVATIONS IN RELATION TO THE DEFINITION
OF NAMES.

AFTER having explained what is meant by the definition*
ies, and how useful and necessary they are, it is im
portant to make some observations relative to the manner
of using them, to the end that they be not abused.

The first is—that we must not nmleriake to define all
words, because tlu* would often, be useless, and it /,- ,>ftm
impossible to be done. I sav that it would often be un
less to define certain names, for when the idea which men
nave oi anything is distinct, and when ail those who under
stand the language form the same idea in hearing a word
pronounced, it would be useless to define it, since it al
ready answers the end of definition, which is, that the
word be attached to a clear and distinct idea, This is the
case in very simple things, of which all men have naturally
same idea, so that the words by which they are ex-
ed, are understood in the manner by all those who
mpioy them; or, if at any time there be any obscurity in
ieir principal attention, nevertheless, falls always

that which is clear in them ; and thus those who employ
hem only to denote a clear idea, need not fear that they

84 OBSERVATIONS ON DEFINITION OF NAMES. [PART I.

will not be understood. Such are the words, — being,
thought, extension, equality, duration, or time, — and others
of a similar description. For, though some have obscured
the idea of time by different propositions which they have
formed, and which they have called definitions, as that
time is the measure of motion, according to anteriority
or posteriority, nevertheless, they do not themselves rest
in these definitions when they hear time spoken of, and
conceive only that which others naturally conceive of
it ; and thus the wise and the ignorant understand the
same thing, with the same facility, when it is said that
a horse takes less time to go a league than a tortoise.
I say, further, that it would be impossible to define all
words ; for, in order to define a word, we must of neces
sity have others which may designate the idea to which
we may wish to attach that word ; and if we still wish
to define the words which we have employed for the
explication of it, we should still have need of others, and
so on to infinity. It, therefore, is necessary that we stop
at some primitive terms which cannot be defined ; and
it would be as great a fault to wish to define too much as
not to define enough, because by one or the other we
should fall into that confusion which we pretend to avoid.

The second observation is, that ive must not change de
finitions already received when we have nothing to com
plain of in them, for it is always more easy to make a
word understood, when recognised custom, at least among
the learned, has attached it to an idea, than when it is
necessary to affix it to a new one, and to detach it from
some other idea to which custom had joined it. Hence,
it would be umvise to change the received definitions of
mathematicians, unless there were any that were perplexed,
and whose idea had not been designated with sufficient
clearness, as, perhaps, those of the angle and of proportion
may be in Euclid.

The third observation is, that when we are to define a
word, we ought, as far as possible, to accommodate our
selves to custom, in not giving to words a sense altogether
removed from that which they have, and which might be
even contrary to their etymology : as when I say — I call a
parallelogram a figure bounded by three lines, — but con-

CHAP. XIII.] OBSERVATIONS ON DEFINITION OP NAMES. 85

tent ourselves, for the most part, in stripping words which
have two senses of one of these, in order to attach it exclu-
sivel}r to the other: as heat expresses, in its common accepta
tion, both sensation which we have, and a quality which we
imagine to be in the fire, resembling altogether that which we
feel. In order to avoid this ambiguity, I may employ the
name heat — in applying it to one of these ideas, and detach
ing it from another: as I say — I call heat the sensation which
I have when I approach the fire, and giving to the name of
that sensation, either a name altogether different, such
as that of burning — (ardeur) — or the same name, with some
addition which determines it, or which distinguishes it from
heat taken from the sensation, as we might say virtual heat.

The reason of this observation is, that men having at
one time attached an idea to a word, do not easily separate
the two ; and thus, the former idea always returning, causes
them easily to forget the new, which you would give them
in defining that word, so that it would be more easy to ac
custom them to a word which signified nothing at all : as
when I say — I call bara a figure bounded by three lines —
than to accustom them to strip from the word parallelo
gram the idea of a figure whose opposite sides are parallel,
to make it signify a figure whose sides could never be
parallel.

It is a mistake into which all chemists have fallen who
have delighted to change the names of almost everything
whereof they speak, without any advantage, and of giving
them those which already signify other things which have
no real relation to the new ideas Avith which they connect
them. This has given rise to some ridiculous arguments :
as that of the man who, imagining that the plague was
a Saturnian evil, pretended that people would be cured of
the pestilence by hanging round the neck a bit of lead
(which the chemists call Saturn), upon which was engraved,
on a Saturday (which also derives its name from Saturn),
the figure which astronomers use to denote that planet, as
if these connections, arbitrary and without reason, between
the lead and the planet Saturn, and between the same
planet and Saturday, and the small mark which denotes it,
could have any real effects, and could cure, effectually,
diseases.

86 ANOTHER SORT OF DEFINITION OF NAMES. [PART I.

But what is more intolerable, is the profanation which
they make of the most sacred mysteries of religion as a
veil for their pretended secrets ; so far, indeed, that there
are some who have been impious enough to apply what
the Scripture says of true Christians, — that they are the
chosen race, — the royal priesthood, — the holy nation, —
the people whom God has chosen, and whom he has called
out of darkness into his wonderful light, — to the chimerical
brotherhood of the Rosicrucians, who are, according to
them, sages who have attained to a glorious immortality,
having found the means, through the philosophers' stones,
of fixing their soul in their body ; inasmuch as (say they),
there is no body more fixed and incorruptible than gold.
We may see these reveries, and many others like them, in
the examination of Fludd's philosophy, by G-assendi, who
showed that there was scarcely any character of mind
worse than that of these enigmatical writers, who imagine
that thoughts the most groundless, not to say false and im
pious, would pass for grand mysteries when clothed in
forms of speech unintelligible to common men.

CHAPTER XIV.

OF ANOTHER SORT OF DEFINITION OF NAMES, THROUGH
WHICH THEIR ORDINARY SIGNIFICATION IS DENOTED.

ALL that we have said about the definition of names is to
be understood only of those in which an author defines the
words which he especially employs ; and it is this which
renders them free and arbitrary, since it is allowed to
every one to employ whatever sound he pleases to express
his ideas, provided he explains beforehand the use of them.
But as men are only masters of their own language, and
not of that of others, each has, indeed, the right to make a
dictionary for himself; but he has no right either to make

CHAP. XIV.] ANOTHER SORT OF DEFINITION OF NAMES. 87

one for others, or to explain their language bv the peculiar

sigmficanon which he has attached to words/ Thus when

Ave undertake to explain, not simply in what sense we take

a word, but also that in which it is commonly taken, the

definitions which we give of it are by no moans arbitrary •

they are bound and restricted to represent, not the truth

of he things but the truth of the custom; and they are

J be reckoned false if they do not faithfully express this

custom -that is to say, if they do not join to sounds the

same ideas which are connected with them, in the ordinary

meaning of those who employ them. And this shows,

lso, that these definitions are by no means free from beino-

cpntested, since disputes continually arise touchin" the

signification which custom gives to terms.

Now, although this species of verbal definitions seems
to belong to grammarians, since it is their office to compile
tioiianes which are nothing but an explanation of the
ideas which men have agreed to connect with certain
sounds; we may, nevertheless, iiK.ke several reflections in
reference to this subject, which are very important to the
exactness of our judgments.

The first, which may serve as a foundation for others
is, that men very often do not consider the entire signification
of words,— that is to say, that words often express more
than they seem to do; and when we would explain the
signification of them, we do not represent the whole, im
pression which they make on the mind.
_ For to signify, in relation to a sound'uttered or written
is only to excite an idea connected with that sound in our
mind, by striking our cars or our eyes. Now it often
happens that a word, besides the principal idea. wh?ch we
;ard as the proper signification of that word, excites
many other ideas, which may be termed accessory, to which
we pay but little attention, though the mind receives the
impression of them.

For example, if one says to another, You lied there, and
we regard only the principal signification of that expression,
is the same thing as if he had said to him, Yon Lwu< the
contrary of what you say. But, besides this principal si-nii-
ncation, these words convey an idea of contempt and out
rage ; and they inspire the belief; that he who uttered

88 ANOTHER SORT OF DEFINITION OF NAMES. [PART I.

them would not hesitate to do us harm, which renders
them offensive and injurious.

Sometimes these accessory ideas are not attached to words
by common custom, but are joined to them only by him
who uses them. And these are properly those which are
excited by the tone of the voice, by the expression of the coun
tenance, by gestures, and other natural signs, which attach to
our words a multitude of ideas, which diversify, change,
diminish, and augment their signification, by joining to
them the image of the emotions, the judgments, and the
opinions of him who speaks.

Wherefore, if he who said that it was necessary to
modulate the tone of our voice to the ears of him who
listens, meant to say that it was enough, if we only spoke
loud enough to be heard, he knew not a great part of the
use of the voice, since the tone signifies often as much as
the words themselves. There is a voice for instruction,
flattery, and for reproof; and often it is, indeed, not only
to reach the ears of him to whom it is spoken, but to strike
them, and pierce them. No one would take it well, for
instance, if a servant, whom he was reproving somewhat
sharply, should answer, Speak loiver, sir, I hear you well
enough; since the tone constitutes part of the reproof, and
it is necessary to convey to the mind the idea you wish to
impress on it.

But sometimes these accessory ideas are attached to the
words themselves, since they are excited commonly by all
those who pronounce them. And this constitutes the dif
ference between expressions which appear to signify the
same thing : some being offensive, others kind ; some
modest, others impudent ; some virtuous, others vicious ; —
since, besides the principal idea to which they belong, men
attach to them other ideas, which is the cause of this
diversity.

This remark will enable us to point out an injustice,
very common among those who complain of the reproaches
which they have received, — which is that of changing sub
stantives into adjectives; so that, if they have been accused
of ignorance or imposture, they say that they have been
called ignorant men, or impostors, which is unreasonable,
since these words do not signify the same thing ; for the

CHAP. XIV.] ANOTHER SORT OF DEFINITION OF NAMES. 89

adjective words, ignorant, or impostor, besides the signifi
cation of blame Avhich they denote, involve also the idea
of contempt; whereas those of ignorance, or imposture,
denote the thing just as it is, without aggravation or pallia
tion. We may find others which signify the same thing,
in a way that would involve a softening idea, and which
would evince a desire to spare the feelings of him against
whom the reproaches were made. And these are the
ways which the wise and moral will choose, at least when
they have no special reason to act with greater severity.
Hence, we may perceive the difference between a simple
style and a figurative style, and how the same thoughts
appear to us much more lively when they are expressed
by a figure, than when they are contained in expressions
quite simple. For this happens, because the figurative
expressions signify, besides the principal thing, the emotion
and passion of him who speaks, and thus impress both
ideas upon the mind ; whereas a simple expression denotes
the naked truth alone. For example, if this half verse of
Virgil, Usque adeone tnori iniscnun est? — were expressed
simply, and without a figure, thus — Non est usque adeo mori
miserum, — it cannot be doubted that it would have much
less force. And the reason is, that the first expression
signifies much more than the second ; for it expresses not
only the thought that death is not so great an evil as it is
supposed to be, but it represents, further, the idea of a
man who challenges death, and who looks it fearlessly in
the face, — an image much more lively than the thought
itself with which it is connected. Thus it is not wonderful
that it strikes us more, since the mind is instructed by the
images of truths, while it is rarely excited, except by the
image of emotions.

" Si vis me flerc, dolendum est
Primum ipsi tibi."

But since the figurative style commonly expresses, with
the things, the emotions which we experience, in conceiv
ing or speaking of them, we may judge the use which
ought to be made of it, and what are the subjects to which
it is adapted. It is clear that it is ridiculous to employ it
in matters purely speculative, which are regarded with a
tranquil eye, and which produce no emotion in the rnind.

90 ANOTHER SORT OF DEFINITION OF NAMES. [PART I.

For, since figures express the emotions of our soul, those
which are introduced into subjects, where the mind is not
moved, are emotions contrary to nature, and a species of
convulsions. This is why there are few things so disagree
able, as to hear certain preachers who declaim indifferently
on everything, and who are as much excited in philosophic
arguments as in truths the most awakening, and the most
necessary to salvation.

While, on the contrary, when the matter of which we
treat is such, that we ought properly to be affected, it is a
defect to speak of it in a dry and cold manner, and without
emotion, since it is a defect not to be touched by that
which ought to affect us.

Thus divine truths, being propounded, not simply for
the purpose of being known, but also much more, in order
that they may be loved, revered, and adored by men, — the
noble, exalted, and figurative style in which the holy
fathers have treated of them, is, without doubt, much
better adapted to them than the bare, unfigurative style of
the scholastics ; since it not only teaches us these truths,
but represents to us also the feelings of love and of reve
rence with which the fathers spoke of them ; and which,
conveying thus to our minds the image of that holy dis
position, may contribute much towards impressing the like
on us ; whereas the scholastic style being simple, and
recognising only ideas of the naked truth, is less capable
of producing in the soul the emotions of love and respect
which we ought to have for Christian truths, and renders
them in this respect, not only less useful, but also less
agreeable, — the pleasure of the soul consisting more in
feeling emotions than acquiring knowledges.

Finally, the same remark will enable us to answer that
celebrated question of the ancient philosophers, Whether
there be unchaste ivords ? and to refute the reasons of the
Stoics, who maintained that we might employ, indifferently,
expressions which are commonly reckoned obscene and
impudent.

They maintain, says Cicero, in a letter which he wrote
on this subject, that there are no words either lewd or
shameful. For the infamy, say they, either comes from
the things, or is in the words. It does not arise exclu-

CHAP. XIV.] ANOTHER SORT OF DKFIXITIOX OF NAMES. 91

sively from the things, since we may express them in other
words, winch are not considered unchaste. Neither is
in the words, considered as sounds ; since it often happens
as Cicero shows, that the same sound signifies different
things, and is considered unchaste in one signification and
not so in another.

But all this is but a vain subtilety, which arises solely
om these philosophers not having considered sufficiently
those accessory uleas which the mind joins to the princi
pal ideas of things, for hence it comes to pass, that the
same thing may be expressed chastely by one sound, and
unchastely by another, if one of these sounds joins to it
some other idea, which hides the infamy of it, and if
another, on the contrary, presents it to the mind in a
shameless manner. Thus the words adultery, incest, abom
inable sin, are not infamous, though they represent actions
which are very infamous, since they represent them only
as covered with a veil of horror, which causes them to be
regarded exclusively as crimes ; so that these words signify
rather the crime of these actions than these actions them
selves ; whereas there are certain other words which ex
press them, without exciting horror, and rather as pleasant
than as criminal, which even connect with them an idea of
impudence and effrontery. And these are those which are
called unchaste and infamous.

It is the same also with certain circumstances by which
we express, chastely, certain actions, which, though law
ful, partake somewhat of the corruption of nature For
these circumlocutions are, in reality, chaste, since they
express not only the tilings, but also the disposition of him
who speaks of them in this way, and who shows by his
reserve, that he hides them as much as possible, both from
himself and others ; whereas those who should speak of
Miern in another manner, would show that they delimited
in considering these kind of objects: and that delight
being infamous, it is not wonderful that the words which
express that idea should be considered unchaste

Hence it sometimes happens also, that the same word is
reckoned chaste at one time, and immodest at another.
This obliged the Hebrew doctors to substitute, in certain
parts of the Bible, Hebrew words in the mar-in, to IK-

92 ANOTHER SORT OP DEFINITION OF NAMES. [PART I.

used by those who read it in place of those which the
Scriptures use. For this arose from the fact that these
words, when the prophets employed them, were not un
chaste, as they were connected with some idea which
caused these objects to be regarded with modesty and re
serve ; but afterwards, that idea having been separated
from them, and custom having joined to them another of
impudence and effrontery, they became immodest ; and it
is with reason, in order that that bad idea might not strike
the mind, that the Rabbins wished others to be pronounced
instead of them, in reading the Bible, although they did
not, on that account, change the text.

Thus it Avas a bad defence made by an author, who was
bound to a strict modesty by his religious profession, and
who was reproached, with reason, for having employed an
unchaste word to express an infamous place, to allege that
the fathers had not scrupled to employ the term lupanar,
and that we often find in their writings meretrix, leno, and
others, which would hardly be endured in our language ;
for the freedom with which the fathers employed these
words, ought to have taught him that they were not reck
oned shameful in their time, that is to say, there was not
then connected with them that idea of effrontery which
renders them infamous now ; and he did wrong to con
clude thence, that he might be allowed to employ those
which are reckoned immodest in our language, because
these words do not signify, in fact, the same thing as those
which the fathers used, since, beside the principal idea
which belongs to them, they involve also the image of a
bad inclination of the mind, and one which partakes, to
some extent, of libertinism and impudence.

These accessory ideas being therefore so important, and
diversifying so widely the principal significations, it would
be useful for the authors of dictionaries to indicate them,
and to make known, for example, the words which are
offensive, polite, abusive, chaste, unchaste ; or rather, that
they should throw aside these last altogether, since it is
always better to be ignorant of them, than to know them.

93

CHAP. XV.] IDEAS WHICH THE MTND ADDS, ETC.

CHAPTER XV.

OF IDEAS WHICH THE MIND ADDS TO THOSE WHICH ARE
EXPRESSLY SIGNIFIED BY WORDS.

WE may also comprehend, under the name of accessory
ideas, another kind of ideas, which the mind adds to the
exact signification of the terms for a special reason, which
is, that ft often happens when, having conceived that exact
signification which answers to the word, it does not rest
there when this is too general and confused, but extends
its view further, taking occasion to consider, beyond the
object which is presented to it, other attributes and phases,
and thus of conceiving it by ideas which are more distinct.
This happens specially in the case of the demonstrative
pronouns, when, instead of the proper name, we employ
the neuter, hoc, this ; for it is clear that this signifies iAis
thing, and that hoc signifies hcec res, hoc negotium. Now,
the word thing, res, denotes an attribute very general and
confused, of every object, there being only nothing to
which it may not be applied. But as the demonstrative
pronoun hoc does not simply denote the thing in itself,
but also causes it to be conceived as present, the mind
does not confine itself to that single attribute thing,
but commonly gives that to certain other distinct Attri
butes. Thus when we employ the word that, pointing
to a diamond, the mind is not satisfied with conceiving it
as a thing present, but adds thereto the ideas of a hard and
shining body of such a form.

All these ideas, those which the mind adds, as well as
the first and principal one, are excited by the word ^oc,
applied to a diamond ; but they are not excited by it in
the same manner, for the idea of the attribute, thing pre
sent, is excited, as the proper signification of the word, and
the others are excited as ideas which the mind conceives
as connected with that first and principal idea, but which
are not expressly denoted by the pronoun hoc. Hence the

IDEAS WHICH THE MIND ADDS [PART j.

additions are different, according as we apply the
hoc, in relation to different things!

If I say hoc in pointing out°a diamond, the term xvill
always signify this thing; but the mind will supply and Sd
thereto,— which is a ^>/™™,/ ...7,^7, • ,PP7 ?n.4*dd

Inese added ideas must, therefore, be clearlv di«
tinguished from the ideas expressed, for tLS they are"
both found m the same mind, they are not found there h
the same manner; and the mind which addsThese other

whiohnth WG-ar! enlbled t08ilence an intrusive wranglin.
ich the ministers have rendered celebrated, and in whTch
hey found their main argument for provin^ their Aira

^\f5S^HBS££

bably added to the on-nf^^A IA c ^- WJ Pro'

95

CHAP. XV.] TO THOSE SIGNIFIED BY '.VOKDS.

has occasioned all the perplexity of the ministers. They
make a thousand useless efforts to prove that the apostles
when Jesus Christ showed them the bread, and Erected
their attention to it by the term hoc, could not have con
ceived anything but bread. We grant that they

fllM PAn^Oi \rr* Kv»,-n-» A ^ ,-. .1 j_l j , i *•

T co-

_ It does not require much to show this IV
question is not whether they conceived bread, but how they
conceived it, and on this point we may say that i '" ey
conceived, that is to say, if they had in their minds a d£
tinct idea of bread, they did not have it as signified by the
word hoc, for this is impossible, since this term never sig
nifies anything but a confused idea, but they had it as an
idea added to that confused idea, and excited by the tir

SnTl S? ?li Tlleiral)0rtance of *** -mark will be
n what follows But it is well to add here, that this dis
tinction is so indubitable, that even when they undertake
to prove that the term tins signifies bread, the/do notht
else but establish it. This word, says a minister who
poke last on the subject, nor, only signifies t/ns thfnglre-
sent, but this thing present which you know to be bread Who

,, tllat the terms you

know to be bread are clearly added to the words, thing pre-
sent, by an incidental proposition, but are not signified ex
pressly by the words thing present. The subject of a pr^
position does not signify an entire proposition, consequently,
m this proposition, winch has the same sense, this which
you know to be bread, the word bread is clearly added to he
woid tins, and not expressed by it.

But what matter is it, say the ministers, that the word
^signifies expressly bread, provided it be true thaHhe
apostles conceived that what Jesus Christ called ill ^

, s' that the term ^ Big-

f T f s on J thc precise idea of MW P™** a!-

winch tlfp ?Ud ^ S>nify breUd' ^ the di&tinct Meas
1 ; P° added t0 lf' rcmains alw^s «aP«ble of

srr*^^ °f bcins c°nnected wi* oth-

hout the mind's perceiving this cliange of object.

^SUf Chrf8t affinSed °f ^^' that * ™
, the apostles had only to cut off the ideas which

96 IDEAS WHICH THE MIND ADDS, ETC. [PART I.

they had made by the distinct idea of bread, and detaining
the same idea of thing present, they would conceive after
the proposition of Jesus Christ was finished, that this thing
present was now the body of Jesus Christ. Thus they
would connect the word hoc, this, which they had joined to
bread, by an incidental proposition, with the attribute
body of Jesus Christ. The attribute body of Jesus Christ
would oblige them indeed to remove the added ideas, but
it would not make any change in the idea precisely de
noted by the word hoc, and they would conceive simply
that it was the body of Jesus Christ. Here is seen all the
mystery of this proposition, which arose not from the ob
scurity of the terms, but from the change effected by Jesus
Christ, who caused this subject, hoc, to have two different
terminations, at the commencement, and at the end of the
proposition, as we shall explain in the Second Book, when
treating of unity of confusion in subjects.

SECOND PART,

CONTAINING THE REFLECTIONS WHICH MEN HAVE
MADE ON THEIR JUDGMENTS.

CHAPTER I.

OF WORDS IN THEIR RELATION TO PROPOSITIONS.

As it is our design to explain here the various reflections
which men have made on their judgments, and as these
judgments are propositions which are composed of various
parts, it is necessary to begin with the explanation of these
parts, which are principally nouns, pronouns, and verbs.

It is of little importance to examine whether it belongs
to grammar or to logic to treat of these things ; it is enough
to say, that everything which is of use to the end of any
art, belongs to it, whether that knowledge be special to it,
or whether it be common also to other arts and sciences
which contribute to it.

Now, it is certainly of some use to the end which logic
contemplates — that of thinking well — to understand the dif
ferent uses of the sounds which are devoted to the expres-

F

98 WORDS IN RELATION TO PROPOSITIONS. [PART II.

sion of ourideas, and which the mind is accustomed to connect
so thoroughly, that it scarcely conceives the one without
the other ; so that the idea of the thine/ excites the idea of the
sound, and the idea of sound, that of the thing.

We may say, in general, on this subject, that WORDS
are sounds distinct and articulate, when men have taken as
signs to express what passes in their mind ; and since that
which passes there may be reduced to conceiving, judging,
reasoning, and disposing, as we have already said ; words
serve to indicate all these operations, and those which have
been invented for this purpose, are principally of three kinds,
which are essential, and of which it will be sufficient to
speak. These are nouns, pronouns, and verbs, which take
the place of nouns, but in a different way. It will be here
necessary to explain this more in detail.

OP NOUNS.

The objects of our thoughts being, as we have already
said, either things, or modes of things, the words set apart
to signify both things and modes are called nouns.

Those which signify things are called NOUNS SUBSTAN
TIVE, as earth, sun. Those which signify modes — marking,
however, at the same time, the subject, of which they are
the modes — are called NOUNS ADJECTIVE, as good, just,
round.

This is why — when, by mental abstraction, we conceive
these modes without connecting them with any subject,
since they then subsist in some sort by themselves, in the
mind — they are expressed by a substantive word, as wis
dom, whiteness, colour.

And, on the contrary, when that which is of itself the
substance of a thing, comes to be conceived in relation to
another subject, the words which express it in this relation
become adjectives, as human, carnal; and, taking away
from these adjectives formed from nouns of substance,
their relation to these, they are made substantives anew.
Thus, after having formed from the substantive word
homo (homme), the adjective human, we form from the
adjective human, the substantive humanity.

CHAP. i.J DIPFEBENT K

they denote the nr
But the reason why they
theybclonSonlytoa7
single subject,

for

8nce
a SllbJcct-

ct&^SS-SSSS

OF PROXOL'NS.

at were vel ,, milul! P^no-ns present them,

tint thev iro " ' tllou8 '.«"! ">i"<l pa-ceives,

by henou^ Tl"me "",nS3 8S "'°Se "•

the noun ",;, ,fh'S iswVnoincon7emence a

be!ns joined

lvere si

OF DIFFERENT KINDS OF PRONOUNS.

Men perceiving that it was often useless and ungraceful to

100 WORDS IN RELATION TO PROPOSITIONS. [PART II.

name themselves, introduced the pronoun of the first per
son to supply the place of him who speaks, ego (moi, je).
And in order that they may not be obliged to name the
person to whom they spoke, they have thought good to
denote him by a word, which they have called the pronoun
of the second person, thou, or you ; while, in order that they
might not be obliged to repeat the names of other persons
and things of which they speak, they have invented pro
nouns of the third person — ille, ilia, illud. Among these,
there are some which point out, as with a finger, the thing
spoken of, and are hence called demonstratives — hie, iste —
this, that ; there are also some which are called reciprocal,
because they denote the relation of a thing to itself, as the
pronoun — sui, sibi, se — Cato slew himself.

All the pronouns have, as we already said, this in com
mon : they mark confusedly the noun whose place they
occupy ; but there is this specially in the neuter of these
pronouns, illud, hoc, when it is taken absolutely, that is to
say, without a noun expressed : that whereas the other
kinds are often, indeed almost always, related to distinct
ideas, which they, nevertheless, denote only confusedly —
ilium ^irantem fiammas, that is to say — ilium Ajacem :
His ego . ^vtas rerum nee tempora ponam, that is to say,
Romanis : i^ '*ter, on the contrary, is always related to
a word generally, and confused ; hoc erat in votis, that is to
say, h(KC res, hoc negotium erat in votis : hoc erat alma parens,
&c. Thus, there is a double confusion in the neuter — to
wit, that of the pronoun, the signification of which is al
ways confused, and that of the word negotium, thing, which
is also general, and confused.

OF THE RELATIVE PRONOUN.

There is yet another pronoun which is called relative — gut,
guce, quod — who, which, that. This relative pronoun has
something in common with the other pronouns, and some
thing peculiar to itself. It has this in common, that it
takes the place of a noun, and excites a confused idea. It
lias this peculiar, that the proposition into which it enters
may be made part of the subject, or predicate of a propo-

CHAP. I.] TIIE RELATIVE PRONOUX.

sition, and thus form one of those added or i
positions, of which we shall speak more at L
God woo iS good, -the world WHICH is visible

(We presume here that these terms, subject and predicate

place Whcre theil. meaning is explained.)

We are, hence, able to resolve this question : What is
the precise meaning of the word that when it folly •
verb and appears to be related to nothing ^.-Johnan^l

¥£z^**%r*s Pilatesaid ^^f°™^t

in Jesus Christ. Tnere are some who would make ft an

til YS \ aVhe rrd qmd' which the Latins some-
nnes though rarely, take in the same sense as our that (que]
A/on ttbi objicio quod hominem spoliasti, says Cicero

But the truth is, that the word that (quod) is' nothin.
more than the relative pronoun, and it preserve, £
leaning; thus, in that proposition, John answered that he
teas not the Christ, the that retains the office of connecting
another proposition, to wit, was not the Christ, with the
attribute contained in the word answered, which signifies
futi respondent. The other use, which is, to snp^ the
place of the noun, appears here with much less truth, which
has led some able men to say, that this that was entirely
without it in this case. We may, however, say, that it
retains it here also; for, in saying that Jolm answered, we
understand that he made an answer; and it is to this con
tused idea of answer that this that refers. In the same-
way, when Cicero says, Non tibi objicio quod hominem spoli-
wsti, the quod refers to the confused idea of a thing objected
termed by the word oljido; and that thing objected', con-
seived before obscurely, is then particularised by the inci-
lental proposition, connected by the quod— quod hominem
spohasti.

r The same thing may be remarked in these questions—

1 suppose that you will be wise— I say that you are icronn.

Ihe term I my causes us at once to conceive confusedly a

tiling said; and it is to this thing said that the that refer*

say that, that is to say, / say a thing which is. And, in

102 WORDS IN RELATION TO PROPOSITIONS. [PART II.

the same way, he who says, / suppose, gives a confused
idea of a thing supposed ; for / suppose means, / make a
supposition ; and it is to this idea of thing supposed that
the that refers. / suppose that, that is to say, / make a
supposition which is.

We may place in the rank of pronouns the Greek
article, 6, fj, TO, when it is placed after, instead of before,

the noun ; TOVTO eo-Ti TO cro>/za fiov TO vrrea vfitav 8(§o/iez/oi>,

says St Luke, for the r6, the, represents to the mind the
body, uayia, in a confused manner. Thus it has the office
of a pronoun ; and the only difference there is between the
article, employed in this manner, and the relative, is, that
though the article occupies the place of the noun, it joins,
notwithstanding, the attribute which follows it to the noun
which precedes ; but the relative makes, with the attribute
following, a separate proposition, though joined to the first
— o SiSorat, quod datur, — that is to say, quod datum est.

From this use of the article, we may judge that there is
little solidity in the remark which has been lately made by
a minister on the manner in which these words of the
evangelist, St Luke, to which we have referred above,
ought to be translated, because, in the Greek text, there is
not a relative pronoun, but an article — this is my body, given
for you, — and not which is given for you ; TO vnep vp.cov
di86p,ei>ov, and not 6 Imep v^mv 8c8oTai. He maintains that
it is absolutely necessary, in order to express the force of
this article, to translate the text thus : — This is my body ;
my body given for you — or, the body given for you; and that
the passage is not properly translated when we express it
in these terms : — This is my body, WHICH is given for you.

This pretension is founded solely on the imperfect man
ner in which that author has penetrated into the true
nature of the relative pronoun, and of the article ; for it is
certain, that as the relative pronoun, qui, quce, quod, in
taking the place of the noun, only represents it in a con
fused manner, so also the article, 6, 17, TO, only represents
confusedly the noun to which it refers ; so that this con
fused representation, being specially designed to avoid the
distinct repetition of the same word, which is offensive,
we in some sort destroy the end of the article, in trans
lating it, by an express repetition of the same word — this

CHAP. II.] TIIE V£RB> ^}

is my body— my body given for you,— the article beino- intro
duced for the express purpose of avoiding this repetition -
whereas, when we translate it by the relative pronoun, we
preserve that essential condition of the article, which is of
representing the noun only in a confused manner, 'and
thus of not presenting the same image to the mind twice-
and fail only to preserve another, which would seem less
essential, that the article so takes the place of the noun
that the adjective which is connected with it does not
make a new preposition— TO trip l^v 8t86^vov : whereas
the relative pronoun, qm, quo>, quod, divides it somewhat
more, and becomes the subject of a new proposition— o
virep inSa, SCOTCH. Thus, in truth, neither of these trans
lations, This is my bod//, which is given for you,— This w mi/
body, my body yiveu far yon,— is quite perfect ; the one
changing the confused signification of the article to a si«'-
mfication distinct, contrary to the nature of the article;
and the other, which preserves that confused signification,'
separating the sentence into two propositions by means of
the relative pronoun, which Avoulcl have been avoided by
the article. But if we arc necessarily obliged to use the
one or the other, we have no right to condemn the first in
choosing the second, as that author professed to do by his
remark.

CHAPTER II.

OF THE VERB.

WE have borrowed thus far what we have said of nouns
and pronouns, from a little book printed some time ago,
under the title of a General Grammar, with the exception of
some points, which we have explained in a different way ;
but in regard to the verb, of which that author treats in
his 13th chapter, we shall merely transcribe what he has

1 04 NOUNS IN RELATION TO PROPOSITIONS. [PART II.

said, since it appears to us that nothing can be added
to it.

" Men," says he, " have not less need to invent words
which may denote affirmation, which is the principal man
ner of our thoughts, than to invent those which may denote
the objects of our thoughts" And herein properly consists
that which we call verb, which is nothing else than a word,
the principal use of which is to express affirmation, that is
to say, to denote that the discourse in which the word is
employed is the discourse of a man who not only con
ceives things, but who judges and affirms of them, in
which the verb is distinguished from other nouns, which
also signify affirmation, as affirmans, affirmatio, because
these signify it only so far as through a reflection of the
mind it becomes an object of our thoughts, and thus they
do not denote that he who employs these words affirms,
but only that he conceives an affirmation. I said that the
principal use of the verb was to signify affirmation, be
cause, as we shall come to see further on, it is employed
also to express other movements of the mind, as those of
desiring, entreating, commanding, &c. But this is done
only by the inflection of the mood, and thus we shall con
sider the verb, through the whole of this chapter, in its prin
cipal signification alone, which is that which it has in the
indicative mood. According to this, we may say that the
verb of itself ought to have no other use than that of
marking the connection which we make in our mind be
tween the two terms of the proposition ; but there is only
the verb to be, which we call substantive, which has re
mained in this simplicity, and even it, properly speaking,
has only remained so in the third person present, is, and
at certain times ; for, as men naturally come to abbreviate
their expressions, there are joined almost always to the
affirmation other significations in a single word.

I. They have joined that of some attribute, so that
when two words constitute a proposition, as when I say
Petrus vivit, Peter lives, because the Avord vivit contains
in itself the affirmation, and besides this, the attribute of
being alive, thus it is the same thing to say, Peter lives, as
it is to say, Peter is alive. Hence has arisen the great
diversity of verbs in every language, whereas, if men had

CHAP. II.] THE VERB. 105

been satisfied with giving to the verb the general signifi
cation of affirmation, without joining to it any particular
attribute, each language would have needed only a single
verb, that, to wit, which is called substantive.

II. They have further joined to it, in certain cases,
the subject of the proposition, so that then two words, and,
indeed, a single word even, may make a complete proposi
tion, two words, as when I say sum homo, since sum ex
presses not only affirmation, but includes the signification
of the pronoun ego, which is the subject of this proposi
tion, and which we always express in our language (je suis
komme), I am a man. A single word, as when I say vico,
sedes, these verbs contain in themselves both the affirma
tion and the attribute, as we have already said, and bein^;
in the first person they contain also the subject, I am living,
I am sitting, hence arises the difference of persons, which
is commonly found in all verbs.

III. They have also added a relation to the time in re
gard to which we affirm, so that a single word, as cainasti,
signifies that I affirm of him to whom I speak, the action
of supping, not in relation to the present time, but to the
past, and hence arises the diversity of times, which also is,
ibr the most part, common to all verbs.

The diversity of these significations has prevented many
persons, otherwise very able, from clearly understanding
the nature of the verb, because they have not considered it
in relation to that which is essential to it, which is affirma
tion, but according to other relations, which are accidental
t» it, qua verb. Thus Aristotle, dwelling on the third of
the significations, added to that which is essential to the
verb, defined it vox signijicans, cum tempora, a word which
is significant with time.

Others, as Buxtorf, having added the second, have de
fined it, vox flezilis cum tempora, et -persona, a word having
various inflections with times and persons.

Others stopping at the first of these, added significations,
and considering that the attributes which men have joined
to the affirmation in a single word, are commonly actions
and passions, have believed that the essence of the verb
consists in expressing actions or passions. And finally,
Julius Caesar Scaliger thought that he had found out a

106 WORDS IN RELATION TO PROPOSITIONS. [PART II.

mystery, in his book on the Principles of the Latin lan
guage, in saying that the distinction of things, in perma-
nentes et fluentes, into those which remain, and those which
pass away, was the true origin of the distinction between
nouns and verbs — the office of nouns being to express what
remains — and verbs, what passes away.

But it may be easily seen, that all these definitions are
false, and do not express the true nature of the verb. The
manner in which the two first are conceived, sufficiently
proves this, since it is not said what the verb signifies, but
only what its signification is connected with, cum tempo-re,
cum persona.

The two last are still worse ; they have the two great
vices of a definition, which is, that they belong neither to
the whole thing defined, nor to it alone, neque omni, neque
soli, for there are verbs which signify neither actions nor
passions, nor that which passes away, as existit, quiescit,
frigit, alget, tepet, calet, albet, viret, claret, &c. And there
are words which are not verbs, which signify actions and
passions, and even things which pass away, according to
the definition of Scaliger, for it is certain that participles
are true nouns, and that, nevertheless, those of active
verbs do not signify actions less, and those of passives,
passions less, than the verbs whence they are derived ; and
there is no reason at all for maintaining that flucns does
not signify a thing which passes away, as well as fluit.

To which we may add, against the two first definitions
of the verb, that the participles also signify time, since
they are of the present, of the past, and of the future,
especially in Greek ; and those who believe, and not with
out reason, that the vocative is a true second person,
especially when it has a different termination from the
nominative, will hold that there is on that, in this point of
view, only a difference, more or less, between the vocative
and the verb.

And thus the essential reason why a participle is not a
verb is this, that it does not express affirmation ; whence it
happens that it cannot make a proposition which it is the
property of the verb to do, except by being joined to a
verb ; that is to say, by that being restored to it which had
been taken away, in changing the verb into a participle ;

CHAP. H.] T1IK VERK

for how is it that Petrus vivit— Peter lives— is a
tion, and that Petrus vwens— Peter livino-— is r
unless you add est to it—Petnis est vivens—PQter is livin-
—except because the affirmation which is contained in vicl
had been taken away in order to make the participle vivens;
whence it appears, that the presence or absence of affirmation,
m a word is that which constitutes it a verb, or not a verb

On which you may further remark, by the way, that
the infinitive, which is very often a noun, as when we say
(le boire, le manffer)-to drink, to eat-is then different
n the participles in this, that the participles are nouns
adjective, while the infinitive is a noun substantive, made
by abstraction of that adjective, in the same way as
troni candidus is made candor, and from white comes white-
ihus the verb rubet expresses is red, includiu- at
once both the affirmation and the attribute rubens—the
participle signifies simply red, without any affirmation, and
rubere is taken for a noun, signifying redness.

It ought, therefore, to be laid down as established, that
•onsidermg simply what is essential in the verb, its onlv
true definition is vox synificans ajfirmationem—a word widen
signifies affirmation.

For we can find no word denoting affirmation which is
not a verb, and no verb which does not denote it, at least
the indicative ; and it is unquestionable, that if one had
een invented, as est, always marking affirmation, without
any difference of persons or of times, so that the diversity
of persons be denoted only by nouns and pronouns, and
diversity of times by adverbs, it would still, nevertheless
have been a true verb. As, in fact, is the case in the
propositions which philosophers term those of eterir.l
truth: as, God ts infinite; all bodu is divisible; the whole is
greater than its part ; the word est signifies, simply, affirma
tion alone without any relation to time, because these are
in relation to all times, and without fixing the atten
tion of the mind on any diversity of persons.

inus the verb, in relation to what is essential to it, is a

word which signifies affirmation. But if we wish to include

in the definition of the verb its principal accidents, we may

3 it thus : vox significant affirmationem cum designation

persona nuinen, et temporis,—a word which signifies affirma-

108 WHAT IS MEANT BY A PROPOSITION. [PART II.

tion, with the designation of person, number, and time ; which
belongs specially to the substantive verb.

For in relation to the other verbs, in so far as they differ
from the substantive verb, by the union which men have
made of the affirmation with certain attributes, we may
define them as follows : vox significans affirmationem ali-
cujus attributi cum desionatione persona?, numeri, et temporis, —
a word which denotes the affirmation of some attribute, together
with the determination of person, number, and time.

We may remark, in passing, that since affirmation, as
conceived, may also be the attribute of the verb, as in the
verb affirmo, this verb signifies two affirmations, of which
one regards the person who speaks, and the other the
person who is spoken of, whether this be oneself or another.
For when I say, Petrus affirmat, affirmat is the same thing
as est affirmans ;. and it then makes my affirmation, or the
judgment I make touching Peter, and affirmans, the af
firmation which I conceive and attribute to Peter. The
verb nego, on the contrary, contains an affirmation, and a
negation, for the same reason.

It is, however, still necessary to remark, that though all
our judgments are not affirmations, but some of them
negations, yet, nevertheless, that verbs only signify of
themselves affirmations, — the negations being expressed
by the particles non, not, or by words involving mdlus,
nemo — none, no one, which, being united to verbs, change
them from affirmative to negative : no man is immortal ; no
body is indivisible.

CHAPTER III.

OF WHAT IS MEANT BY A PROPOSITION, AND OF FOUR KINDS
OF PROPOSITIONS.

AFTER having conceived things through ideas, we compare
these ideas together ; and, finding that some agree together,

CHAP. „,] WJIAT Ig M

and that others do not
which is called affirm!ay

It is not sufficient to co«cez»e these two tm,

is±™t^:^s

the verb u, d,h« alon ^» we^

But though every proposition contains necessarily these
tree things, vet. .-is \™ i,,,,^ ..,,%i • . Y mese

) that is to s

pr j

' S

-

1S "IC" Joinci1 t

8 being; for/

the most

means

the subject

^,,_L JAi CIJ oiu''iu word, as in

and second persons of the verb, especially in Latin,
1 say, bum C/imtianus; for the subject of this pro-
tion is cyo, which is contained in num. Whence it ap-

110 WHAT IS MEANT BY A PROPOSITION. [p ART II.

pears, that in that language a single word makes a pro
position in the first and second persons of verbs, which, by
their nature, already contain the affirmation with the
attribute, thus, veni, vidi, vici, are three propositions.

We see, from this, that every proposition is affirmative or
negative, and that this is denoted by the verb which is
affirmed or denied.

But there is another difference of propositions which arises
from their subject, which is according as this is universal,
particular, or singular. For terms, as we have already
said in the First Part, are either singular, or common, or
universal. And universal terms may be taken according to
their whole extension, by joining them to universal signs,
expressed or understood : as, omnis, all, for affirmation ;
nullus, none, for negation ; all men, no man.

Or according to an indeterminate part of their extension,
which is, when there is joined to them aliquis, some, as
some man, some men ; or others, according to the custom
of languages. Whence arises a remarkable difference of
propositions ; for when the subject of a proposition is a com
mon term, which is taken in all its extension, propositions are
called universal, whether affirmative, as, Every impious man
is a fool, — or negative, as, No vicious man is happy.

And when the common term is taken according to an
indeterminate part only of its extension, since it is then re
stricted by the indeterminate word some, the proposition is
called particular, whether it affirms, as, some cruel men are
cowards, — or whether it denies, as, some poor men are not
unhappy.

And if the subject of a proposition is singular, as when
I say, Louis XIII. took Rochette, it is called singular. But
though this singular proposition may be different from the
universal, in that its subject is not common, it ought,
nevertheless, to be referred to it, rather than to the parti
cular ; for this very reason, that it is singular, since it is
necessarily taken in all its extension, which constitutes the
essence of a universal proposition, and which distinguishes it
from the particular. For it matters little, so far as the
universality of a proposition is concerned, whether its
subject be great or small, provided that, whatever it may
be, the whole is taken entire. And hence it is that

CHAP. Hi.] WIIAT IS MEA

aflirmative: ™' man is a

E. Universal negative : as, No vicious man is hom.

0 P '!• Ulr affim?tive : ^, Some « men {"rich.

articular negative : as, Some vicious men are not rich.

The following two verses have been made for the better
remembering of those :—

Assent A, ne-at E, vcrum ^cncralitor ambo,
Asserit 1, negat O, sod particulariter ambo.

It is customary to call the universality or particularity
of propositions their quantity. By ^alit,/ is mea thl
aJV-mtaon or negation, which depends on the veib ,nd
this is regarded as tlio>-w of a proposition

1 hus A and E agree in quantity, and differ according to
quality; and so also with I and O.

But A and I ((yrce according to quality, and differ ic
conhng to quantity; and in the same way, E and 0

Propositions are divided, again, according to their matter
mto true and false. And it is clear that there are 0 e
which are notdther true or false, since every proposHion
denoting the judgment which we form of things true

iTis6 not tJUd1ment JS Cmif°rmCd t0 "Uth' and Sse wS
s not so conformed ; since we are often in want of IMit

o recognise true and false. Besides those propositions

rer aLT fZ ^tr CCrtahllVrUe' and those *™£ -PP-r
Jrtamly false, there are others which appear to us true

but whose truth is not so evident as tofree us from nil

Seenl°t ^ I'1"7 fT ^ &1Se' °r Whidl •*£ to
u* i. ise, but of whose falsity we are not certainly *ure

These are the propositions which we caa probable, and the

112 THE OPPOSITION BETWEEN PROPOSITIONS [PART II.

CHAPTER IV.

OF THE OPPOSITION BETWEEN PROPOSITIONS HAVING THE
SAME SUBJECT AND ATTRIBUTE.

WE have said there are four sorts of propositions — A, E,
I, O. We inquire now what agreement or disagreement
they have together, when we make from the same subject,
and the same attribute, different kinds of propositions. This
is what is called opposition.

And it is easy to see that this opposition can be only of
three kinds, though one of the three is divided into two
others. For if propositions are opposed, both in quantity
and quality, they are called contradictories, as A 0, and E 1,
every man is an animal, some man is not an animal, no man is
free from sin, some man is sinless. If they differ in quantity
alone, and agree in quality, they are called subalterns, as
A I, and E 0, every man is an animal, some man is an ani
mal, no man is sinless, some man is not sinless.

And if they differ in quality, and agree in quantity, they
are then called contraries, or sub-contraries. Contraries,
when they are universal, as every man is an animal, no man
is an animal. Sub-contraries, when they are particular, as
some man is an animal, some man is not an animal. In con
sidering these opposed propositions, according to their
truth or falsehood, we may easily determine —

1st, That contradictories are never either true or false to
gether, but if one is true the other is false ; and if one is
false the other is true. For if it is true that every man is
an animal, it cannot be true that some man is not an ani
mal ; and if, on the contrary, it is true that some man is
not an animal, it is, consequently, not true that every man
is an animal. This is so clear that it would only be ob
scured by further explanation.

2d, Contraries can never be both true, but they may be
often both false. They can not be true because the con-
ti'adictories would be true. For if it is true that every

CHAP. IV.] HAVING THE SAME SUBJECT AND ATTRIBUTE. 113

I^T* * is f?.isc that s°me m(m « ** «• «*

; f o tl , ? Contoadlctol7 ' and> by consequence, still
there may be just men, though all are not just. J

°fP°sed * 0M of

may be lolk true, as these, some man is just
some man ls not just, because justice 'may belong toCe
part of men, and not to another ; and thus the affirmation

6

tions nmi 1 n' n °ne O te P~P08i-

tions , and for another in the other. But they cannot l<>

both false, since otherwise the contradictories wouW be both
false ; for if lt were false tlmt some men were S it wou d

-at ^^ ^ >^' Which is the con.

Wl-
« just, which is the sub-contrary.

4th, With m?«rrf #o ^e subalterns, there is not any true

SraT? 'TC7/ ^ Part^larS "" — equentsTf Z
ff ^0 1 "C?iai'e animal8' "^ ?^wis «" animal;

tlth of V ^ ^' T' WaW " ^ a;? ^' IIe"ce the
but hf tl l^/ir"8'18 mV?1VCS that of thc Particulars,
the truth of the particulars does not involve that of
the umversals, for it does not follow, because L Itruethat

n^is ™

man is just ; and on the contrary, the falsehood of parti

culars mvolves the falsehood of universal*, for if it is false
that some man is sinless, it is still more false that

ov ,f

false t/f7 the P?rticulara. for although it may
to ± tieTT man 1S JUSt-' U does not foll()- ^t it is
hei-e are ™ *>™.™» « just. Hence it follows that
e many cases m which these subalteniate proposi-
|ons are both true, and others in which they are both

114 SIMPLE AND COMPOUND PROPOSITION'S. [PART II.

CHAPTER V.

OF SIMPLE AND COMPOUND PROPOSITIONS — THAT THERE ARE
SOME SIMPLE PROPOSITIONS WHICH APPEAR COMPOUND, jj
AND WHICH ARE NOT SO, BUT MAY BE CALLED COMPLEX.

OF THOSE WHICH ARE COMPLEX IN THE SUBJECT, OR j

IN THE ATTRIBUTE.

WE have said that every proposition ought to have a sub
ject and an attribute ; but it does not hence follow that it
may not have more than one attribute. Those, therefore,
which have, only one subject and one attribute, are called simple,
and those which have more than one subject, or more than one
attribute, are called compound, as when I say — " Good and
evil, life and death, poverty and riches, come from the Lord"
— that attribute, come from the Lord, is affirmed, not of one
subject alone, but of many, to wit, of good and evil, &c.

But before explaining these compound propositions, it
must be remarked there are some which appear to be so,
which are, nevertheless, simple ; for the simplicity of a
proposition is derived from the unity of subject and attri
bute. Now, there are many propositions which have, pro
perly, only one subject and one attribute, but whose sub
ject, or attribute, is a complex term, containing other pro
positions, which may be called incidental, which constitute
only a part of the subject, or attribute, being joined by the
relative pronoun u-ho, ivhich, whose property it is to join
together many propositions so that they compose only one.

Thus when Jesus Christ says, — " He that doth the will
of my Father which is in heaven, shall enter into the king
dom of heaven," — the subject of this proposition contains
two propositions, since it comprehends two verbs ; but as
they are joined together by whd, they constitute only a
part of the subject ; whereas, when I say — good and evil
come from the Lord — there is, properly, two subjects, since
I affirm equally of the one and of the other that they come
from God.

CHAP. V.] SIMPLE AND COMPOUND IMPOSITIONS. 115

,CtPtt±i:hiCh -UlVe be-en ?ade bef°rc> -d "hth we
jubt then only conceive as simple ideas. Whence it hin

" idifferCnt WhethCT WG

on " rerCnt WhethCT WG "tse pr
positions by adjective nouns or b

on r pr

positions by adjective nouns, or by participles with™
verbs, and without the relative prongs ( vl £ which ) or
with verbs and the relative pronoun; for it
hmg to T^MM* God create, the

most generous of all kings, conquered Darius •
. • who "as the most generous of all kings, con
quered Darius. And, in either case, rny principal aim is
not to aflirm that God is invisible, or that Alexander w-,
temost generous of kings; but, supposing each as de
clared before, I affirm of God, conceived as°invisiblt that
« created the visMe world; and of Alexander, conceived as
generous, that he conquered Darius.

But if I were to say— Alexander was the most qenerous of
«hJ!Xfi ^^nqmror of Darius, it is clear that I
should affirm equal y of Alexander, both that he was the
most generous of all kings, and that he was the conqueror
of Darius. _ And thus it is with reason, that these last kind
ot propositions are called compound propositions, while the
others may be termed complex propositions

Again, it must be remarked that these complex proposi
tions may be of two kinds, for the complexity may fall
either on the matter of the proposition, that is to say, on the

done °r ^ att>ib>(te' °r °>l Mh °r also on ^ie f°rm

1st, The complex*,, tails on the subject when the subject

> a complex term, as in this proposition—^^ man who fears

'thing is a king : the king is he who fears nothing.

Beatus ille qui procul negotiis,
Ut prisca gens mortaliuin
Paterna rura bobus cxercet suis,
Solutus omni fcenore.

For the verb is is understood in this last proposition— beatu*
is the attribute, and all the rest the subject.

116 SIMPLE AND COMPOUND PROPOSITIONS. [PART II.

2d, The complexity falls on the attribute when the attri
bute is a complex term : as, Piety is a good which renders man
happy in the greatest adversity.

Sum pius ^Eneas fama super sethera notus.

But it must be particularly noticed here, that all propo
sitions compounded of active verbs and their objects, may
be called complex, and contain, in some sort, two propositions.
If I say, for example, Brutus kitted a tyrant, this means
Brutus killed some one, and he whom he killed was a
tyrant ; whence it happens that this proposition may be
contradicted in two ways, either by saying — Brutus killed
no one, or by saying that he wlwm lie killed was not a tyrant.
It is very important to notice this, because, when these
kinds of propositions enter into argument, we sometimes
prove only one part of them, and suppose the other, which
often makes it necessary to reduce these arguments to a
more natural form, by changing the active into the passive,
in order that the part which is proved may be expressed
directly, as we shall notice more at length in treating of
the compound arguments, which arise from these complex
propositions.

3d, Sometimes the complexity falls upon both the subject
and the attribute : each being a complex term, as in this pro
position — the great who oppress the poor will be punished by
God, who is the protector of the oppressed.

Ille ego, qui quondam, gracili modulatus avena
Carmen, et egressus silvis, viciria coegi
Tit quamvis avido, parerent arva colono ;
Gratum opus agricolis : et nunc horrentia Martis
Arma virumque cano, Trojse qui primus ab oris
Italiam, fato profugus, Lavinia venit
Littora.

The three first verses and a part of the fourth compose
the subject of this proposition, the rest of it composes the
attribute, and the affirmation is contained in the verb cano.

These are the three ways according to which proposi
tions may be complex, in relation to their matter, that is,
in relation to their subject and attribute.

CHAP. VI.] THE NATURE OF INCIDENTAL PROPOSITION. 1 ] 7

CHAPTER VI.

OF THE NATURE OF INCIDENTAL PROPOSITIONS WHICH
FORM PART OF COMPLEX PROPOSITIONS.

BUT before speaking of propositions whose complexity falls
on the form, that is to say, on the affirmation or negation
there are several important remarks to be made on the
nature of incidental propositions, which constitute part of the
subject, or the attribute, of those which are complex ac-
cording to the matter.

1st, We have already seen that incidental propositions
are those whose subject is the relative who ; as £, ° To
™™ted to know and to love God; or, men who aTpi^:
taking away the term men, the rest is an incidental propo-

T 10"; ?4TTWVnU8J remember llc^ what was said in
Chapter MIL, Part First,-that the addition of complex
terms was of two kinds, one which may be called that of
simple apKeatb*, which is, when the addition effects no
change in the idea of the term, because that which is added
agrees with it generally, and in all its extension : as in the
first example- mm who are created to know and to love God
Ine other which may be called determinatives, because
what is added to a term does not belong to a term in all
its extension, but restricts and determines the signification of
it, as in the second example, men u-ho are pious. Accord
ingly we may say there is a who explicative, and a who
determinative Aow, when the who is explicative, the
attribute of the incidental proposition is affirmed of the
subject to which the who refers, although this may be only
incidentally of the whole proposition, so that we may sub
stitute the subject even for who, as maybe seen in the first
example, men who are created to know and love God. for we
may say, men were created to know and love God.

But when the who is determinative, the attribute of the
incidental proposition is not properly affirmed of the sub
ject to which the who refers ; for if, after having said, men

118 THE NATURE OP INCIDENTAL PROPOSITIONS [PART II.

who are pious are charitable, we were to substitute the word
men for who, in saying men are pious, the proposition would
be false, for this would be to affirm the word pious of men
as men ; but in saying, men who are pious are charitable,
we do not affirm of men in general, or of any men in par
ticular, that they are pious ; but the mind, connecting the
idea of pious with that of men, and making them a total
idea, judges that the attribute charitable agrees to that
total idea ; and thus all the judgment which is expressed
in the incidental proposition is solely that by which our
mind judges that the idea of pious is not incompatible
with that of men, and that thus it may be considered as
united with it, and that afterwards it may be examined
with what agrees with them in relation to this union.

2d, There are often terms which are doubly or trebly
complex, being composed of many parts, each of which is
in itself complex ; and thus there may be found in it
divers incidental propositions, and of various kinds ; the
who or which of one may be determinative, and the iclio or
which of another, explicative. This will be seen better by
an example. The doctrine which places the sovereign good
in bodily pleasure, which ivas taught by Epicurus, is unworthy
of a philosopher. This proposition has for attributes un
worthy of a philosopher, and all the rest for subject. Thus
the subject is a complex term, which contains two inci
dental propositions, — the first is, ivhich places the sovereign
good in bodily pleasure. The ivhich, in this incidental pro
position is determinative, for it determines the word doctrine,
which is general, to that which affirms that the sovereign
good of men is found in bodily pleasure; whence it happens,
that we cannot, without absurdity, substitute the word
which for the word doctrine, saying, doctrine places the sove
reign good in bodily pleasure. The second incidental propo
sition is, which ivas taught by Epicurus, and the subject to
which this which refers, is the whole complex term, the
doctrine which places the sovereign good in bodily pleasure,
which indicates the doctrine singular and individual,
capable of various accidents, as of being maintained by dif
ferent men, although it is determined in itself to be always
taken in the same sense, at least in this particular point,
according to which it is understood, and this is why the

CHAP. VI.] FORM1NG PABT OF

«« of the second incidental proposition, ^ «*, taught

* — - ^ "< £&2£s ~

.

pronoun («^ ^) is determinative O1. creave we
must often pay more attention to the meaning a
on

eanng a

ons of the speaker than to the simple expression for

here are often complex terms which appear i Icon pL or

less complex, than they really are, for a part of tl Twhich

winch is joined to the word, an individual and distinct
Uea, which determines it to signify only a single thing

\V e have said that this commonly appeared from cir
cumstances, as in the mouth of a Frenchman the word
ang signifies Louis XIV. But the following is a rule that
may enable us to judge when a common tern remains Tn
its general idea, and when it is determined by an idea di"
tinc and particular, though not expressed : l-kcn there ^ a
manifest absurdity in connecting the attribute vM the subject
rwmmng in its gew-al idea, u~e mustMieve thathe who ut£d
this propo^on did not leave that subject in its general idea
Thus, ii I hear it said by a man, Sex hoc Jhi impe^Mt
t^kinff commanded me to do such a thing, I am assured 1 e
did not leave the word king in its general idea, for kin, in
general, can give no particular command

If a man said to me, the "Brussels Gazette" fur the Uth of
January 1662, relating to what passed in Paris, is false I
should be sure that he had something in his mind beyond
what these terms express, since all this will not enable him
to judge whether the Gazette were true or false, and that
hence it must be that he had in his mind some distinct and
particular news, wluch he judged contrary to truth, as for

120 THE FALSITY THAT MAY BE MET WITH [PART II,

instance, if that " Gazette" had said that the Icing had made
a hundred knights of the order of the Holy Ghost.

So also, in the judgments which are made of the
opinions of philosophers, when any one says that the
doctrine of such a philosopher is false, without distinctly
expressing what that doctrine is, as that the doctrine of Lu
cretius touching the nature of the soul is false. It must necessa
rily be that those who form these kinds of judgments have in
their minds a distinct and particular opinion under the general
term, doctrine of such a philosopher, since the quality of
falseness cannot belong to a doctrine, as being of such an
author, but only as being such an opinion in particular
contrary to truth. And thus these kinds of propositions
necessarily resolve themselves into the following : such an
opinion which was taught l>y such an author, is false; the
opinion that our soul is composed of atoms, which was taught
ly Lucretius, is false.

So that these judgments involve always two affirmations,
even when they are not distinctly expressed ; — one, prin
ciple, which regards truth in itself, which is, that it is a
great error to maintain that the soul is composed of atoms ;
the other, incidental, which regards only a point of history,
which is that error was taught by Lucretius.

CHAPTER VII.

OF THE FALSITY THAT MAY BE MET WITH IN COMPLEX
TERMS AND INCIDENTAL PROPOSITIONS.

WHAT we have said may enable us to resolve a celebrated
question, which is, Whether falsehood is to le found only in
propositions, or whether it does not also enter into ideas
and simple terms ?

I speak of falsehood rather than of truth, because there
is a truth which is in things in relation to the mind of

CHAP. VII. J IX COMPLEX TERMS, ETC. 121

God, whether men think it, or whether they do not ; but
falsehood can only be in relation to the mind of man, or to
some mind subject to error, which judges falsely that a
thing is that which it is not.

It is asked, then, whether this falseness is only found in
propositions and in judgments ? We reply commonly no, —
which is true in a sense ; but this does not secure that
there shall not be sometimes falsehood, not in simple ideas
but in complex terms, since it is enough for this that there
be some judgment and affirmation, either expressed or
understood.

We shall understand this better by considering in detail
two sorts of complex terms, in one of which the who is ex
plicative — in the other, determinative.

We need not wonder that falsehood is to be found in
the first kind of complex terms, since here the attribute of
the incidental proposition is affirmed of the subject to
which the relative refers. Alexander, who was the son nf
Philip : I affirm of Alexander, although incidentally, that
he was the son of Philip ; and, consequently, if it be not
so, there is falsehood in this.

But two or three things, which are important, must be
remarked here : —

1st, That the falsehood of the incidental proposition does
not commonly affect the truth of the principal proposition ; for
example, Alexander, who was the son of Philip, conquered
the Persians. This proposition ought to be considered
true, though Alexander be not the son of Philip ; since the
affirmation of the principal proposition falls only on Alex
ander, and that which is incidentally connected with it,
though false, does not prevent it being true, that Alexander
conquered the Persians. If, however, the attribute of the
principal proposition be related to the incidental proposi
tion, as if I were to say, Alexander, the son of Philip, was
the grandson ofAmyntas, — in this case only would the false
hood of the incidental proposition make the principal
proposition false.

2d, The titles which are commonly given to certain
dignitaries may be given to all those who possess these
dignities, though that which is signified by the title may
not belong to them at all. Thus, because formerly the

122 THE FALSITY THAT MAY BE MET WITH [PART II.

title of holy, and of very holy, was given to all bishops, we
see that the Catholic bishops, in the Council of Carthage,
did not hesitate to bestow that name on Donatist bishops :
Sanctissimus Petillianus dixit, although they knew well that
holiness could not belong to a schismatic bishop. We see
also that Paul, in the Acts, gives the title of very excellent
to Festus, governor of Judea, because that was the title
commonly given to these governors.

3d, The case is different when a man is the author of
the title which he gives to another, and which he gives to
him, not according to the opinion of others, or according
to popular error, but for himself alone ; for we may then,
with justice, impute to him the falsehood of these proposi
tions. Thus, when a man says, Aristotle, who is the prime*
of philosophers, or simply, the prince of philosophers, believed
that the origin of the nerves was in the heart, we ought
not to tell him that this is false, because Aristotle is not
the best of philosophers ; for it is enough that he followed,
in this, the common opinion, though false. But if any
one said, Gassendi, ivho was the most able of philosophers,
believes that there was a void in nature, we might dispute with
such a man the quality which he wished to bestow on
Gassendi, and make him responsible for the falsehood
which we might maintain was to be found in that inci
dental proposition. He may, therefore, be accused of
falsehood in giving to the same person a title which does
not belong to him, and we cannot be accused of it in giving
to him another which belongs to him still less in truth.
For example, the pope, John XII., was neither holy, chaste,
nor pious, as Baronius allows ; and yet those who should
call him very holy could not be accused of falsehood, and
those who called him very chaste, or very pious, were great
liars, although they may only have done this by incidental
propositions, as if they were to say, John XII., a very
chaste pontiff, ordained such a thing.

So much touching the first kind of incidental proposi
tions, in which the relative (ii'ho, u'hich), is explicative.

In relation to the others, where the relative is determina
tive, as a man who is pioiis, — kings who love their people, — it
is certain that, in general, they are not susceptible of false
hood, since the attribute of the incidental proposition is

CHAP. VII.] IN COMPLEX TERMS, ETC. 123

not affirmed of the subject to which the relative refers.
For if we say, for example, that jucljes who never do any
thing by request or favour are worthy of praise, we do not
say, on that account, that there is any judge in the world
who has attained to that perfection ; nevertheless I believe
that there is always in these propositions a tacit or virtual
affirmation, not of the actual agreement of the attribute with
the subject to which the who refers, but of its possible
agreement. And if an error be committed here, I believe
we shall have reason to hold that there may be falsehood
in these incidental propositions, as if, for example, it were
said, Minds which, are square are more solid titan those which
are round; the idea of square and round being incompatible
with the idea of mind, taken for the principle of thought, I
hold that such incidental propositions ought to be reckoned

false.

We may even say that a greater number of errors spring
from this ; for, having the idea of a thing, we often join to
it another idea which is incompatible with it, although,
through error, we believed it compatible, which leads us
to attribute to this idea that which never belonged to it.

Thus, finding in ourselves two ideas, that of a substance
which thinks, and that of a substance extended, it often hap
pens, that when we consider our soul, which is a substance
which thinks, we mingle insensibly with it something of
the idea of a substance extended, as when we imagine that
our soul must fill a space as the body does, and that it
could not exist if it had no parts,— things which belong
exclusively to the body ; and hence has arisen the impious
error of those who believe the soul to be mortal. We
may see an excellent discourse on this subject by St
Augustine, in the Tenth Book of the Trinity, where he
shows that there is nothing which may be known more
easily than the nature of the soul. But that which per
plexes men is this, that, wishing to know it, they are not
satisfied with that which they may know without diiu
that it is a substance which thinks, wills, doubts, knows,
but they join to what it is, that which it is not, striving
imagine it under some of those forms through which they
are accustomed to conceive of corporeal things.
When, on the other hand, we consider body, we

124 COMPLEX PROPOSITIONS IN PvELATION TO [PART II.

very great difficulty in consequence of mingling Avith it some
thing of the idea of that which thinks, Avhich leads us to say
of heavy bodies, they incline towards a centre ; of plants,
that they seek the nourishment which is proper for them ; of
the crisis of a malady, that it is nature which is striving to get
rid of that which offends it ; and of a thousand other things
especially in our body, that nature wishes to do this or that,
though we are well assured that we have not willed it,
nor thought anything about it ; and it is ridiculous to
imagine that there is in us anything else beside ourselves
which knows what is suitable or hurtful, which seeks the
one and avoids the other.

I believe that it is to this mixture we may attribute all
the complaints which men make against God ; for it would
be impossible to murmur against God if we conceived of
him truly as he is — all-powerful, all-wise, and all-good.
But wicked men, conceiving of him as all-powerful, and
as the sovereign ruler of all the world, attribute to him all
the evils which happen to them, wherein they are right.
And since, at the same time, they conceive him cruel and
unjust, which is incompatible with his goodness, they rail
against him, as though he had done them wrong in laying
upon them the evils which they suffer.

CHAPTER VIII.

OF COMPLEX PROPOSITIONS IN RELATION TO AFFIRMATION
AND NEGATION, AND OF A SPECIES OF THESE KINDS OF
PROPOSITIONS "WHICH PHILOSOPHERS CALL Modals.

BESIDE the propositions of which the subject, or the attri
bute, is a complex term, there are others which are com
plex, because they have incidental terms, or propositions,
which regard only the form of the proposition, that is to

OHAP. VIII.] AFFIRMATION AND NEGATION. 125

say, the affirmation, or negation, which is expressed by
the verb : as, if I say, — / maintain that the earth is round —
I maintain is only an incidental proposition, which must
be a part of something in the principal proposition. Yet,
it is clear that it makes no part either of the subject or the
attribute, for it makes no change in them at all ; and they
would be conceived in precisely the same way, if I said,
simply, the earth is round. And thus it can belong only to
the affirmation, which is expressed in two ways, the one,
which is the usual, by the verb is, — the earth is round, and
the other more expressly by the verb I maintain.

In the same way, when it is said, / dent/ that it is true, it
is -not true ; or when we add in a proposition that which
supports its truth : as when I say — the reasons of astronomy
convince -us that the sun, is much larger than the earth ; for
that first part is only a support of the affirmation.

It is, nevertheless, important to notice that there are
some of these kinds of propositions which are ambiguous,
and which may be differently taken, according to the de
sign of him who utters them : as if I say, — all philosophers
assure us that heavy things fall doicnwards of themselves.
If my design is to show that heavy things fall downwards
of themselves, the first part of this proposition would be
incidental, and would serve only to support the affirmation
of the last part ; but if, on the contrary, my design is merely
to express this as the opinion of philosophers, without affirm
ing it myself, then the first part will be the principal propo
sition, and the last would be only a part of the attribute. For
what I should affirm would not be that heavy things fall >>f
themselves, but simply, that all philosophers maintain this : and
it is clear that these two different ways of taking this same
proposition, so change it, that it constitutes two different
propositions which have altogether different meanings.
But it is generally easy to determine by the context which
of these two senses we are to take. For example, if, after
having uttered that proposition, I were to add — now stones
are heavy — it would be clear that I had taken it in the first
sense, and the first part was only incidental ; but if, on
the contrary, I were to conclude thus — noic this is an error,
and, consequently, it is possible that an error may be taught ly
all -philosophers — it would be manifest that I had taken

126 COMPLEX PROPOSITIONS. [PART II.

it in the second sense, that is to say, that the first part
was the principal proposition, and that the second was
only part of the attribute.

Of these complex propositions, where the complexity
falls on the verb, and not on the subject or the attribute,
philosophers have specially noticed those which have been
called modals, because the affirmation or negation has been
qualified in them by one of these four modes, — possible, con
tingent, impossible, necessary. And, since each mode may be
affirmed or denied, as it is impossible, it is not impossible,
and, in both respects, may be joined by a proposition,
affirmative, or negative, as, the earth is round, the earth is not
round — each mode may have four propositions, and, the four
together, sixteen, which have been denoted by these four
words: Purpurea, Iliace, Amabimus, Edentnli, — the whole
mystery of which is, that each syllable denotes one of the
four modes.

First — possible.

Second — contingent.

Third — impossible.

Fourth — necessary.

And the vowel which is found in each syllable, which is
either A, or E, or I, or U, points out whether the mode
ought to be affirmed or denied, and whether the proposi
tion which is termed dictum ought to be affirmed or denied
in that way.

A. — The affirmation of the mode, and the affirmation of
the proposition.

E. — The affirmation of the mode, and the negation of
the proposition.

I. — The negation of the mode, and the affirmation of
the proposition.

U. — The negation of the mode, and the negation of the
proposition.

It would only be loss of time to bring examples which
may easily be found ; it is only necessary to observe, that
Purpurea answers to A of complex propositions, Iliace to
E, Amabimus to I, Edentuli to U; and that thus if we

CHAP. IX.] COMPOUND PROPOSITIONS.

wish our examples to be true, we must, having found a
subject, take iov purpurea an attribute which may be urn
versally affirmed of it; for illace one winch may be univer
sally denied of it ; for amabwus one that may be particu
larly affirmed of it; and for edcntuli one that may 1
particularly denied of it.

But whatever attribute may be taken, it is always true
that all the four propositions for the same word have only
the same sense, so that one being true, all the rest are

CHAPTER IX.

OF DIFFERENT KINDS OF COMPOUND PROPOSITIONS.

WE have already said that compound propositions are
those which have either a double subject, or a double atti
butc Now. of these there are two kinds, the one where
?he composition is denoted expressly and the other where
it is more concealed, which logicians have, for this re*
called expombles, since they need to be expounde.

emay reduce those of the first kind to six species.-
Copulativ* [and disjunctives, conditionals and causals, rel
and diseretives.

COPULATIVES.

We call copulatives those which contain either several
subjects, or several attributes, united by an affirmative
negative conjunction, that is to say, by and, or neither, 1<
31 produces the same effect as and, since -f^
fies and, and a negation, which falls on the verb, and
on the union of the two words which it joins : as, i 1 say,
—knowledye and rides do not render a man happy-

128 COMPOUND PROPOSITIONS. [PART II.

much unite knowledge to riches, in affirming of both that
they do not render a man happy, as if I said — know
ledge and riches render a man vain.

We may distinguish three kinds of these propositions.

1st, When they have several subjects.
Mors et vita in manibus linguae.
Death and life are in the power of the tongue.

2d, When they have several attributes.

Auream quisquis mediocritatem
Diligit, tutus, caret dbsoleti
Sordibus tecti, caret invidenda

Sobrius aula.

He who loves moderation, which is desirable in all
things, lives neither sordidly nor superbly.
Sperat infaustis^ metuit secundis
Alter am sortem, bene prosper at urn

Pectus.

A well regulated mind hopes for prosperity in adver
sity, and fears adversity in prosperity.

3d, When they have several subjects and several attri
butes.

Non domus etfundus, non ceris acervus et auri,
Aegroto Domini deduxit corpore felres,

Non animo curas.

Neither houses, nor lands, nor the greatest heaps of
gold and silver, can chase away fevers from the
body, or cares from the mind of their possessors.

The truth of these propositions depends on the truth of
both parts : thus, if I say— faith and a good life are neces
sary to salvation. This is true, because both are necessary ;
but if I said, good life and riches are necessary to salvation,
this proposition would be false, since, although good life
is thus necessary, riches are not.

Propositions which are considered as negative and con
tradictory, in relation to the copulatives, and to all the
other compound ones, are not all those in which negations
are found, but only those in which the negation falls on

CHAP. IX.] DISJUNCTIVES. 129

the conjunction ; and this happens in different ways, as by
placing the not at the top of the proposition — Non enirn
amas et deserts, says St Augustine, — that is to say, you
must not believe you love any one when you desert him.

For it is in the same way we render a proposition con
tradictory, the contradictory, or copulative, by expressly
denying the conjunction: as when we say — it cannot be
that a thing should be, at the same time, this and that.

That we cannot be in love, and be wise.

A mare ct sapere vix Deo conceditur.
That love and majesty do not agree together.

Non be tie conocniunt, ncc in una sede moruntur, /ttitjtstos
ct amor.

DISJUNCTIVES.

Disjunctives are of great service, and are those into
which the disjunctive conjunction, £(7, or, enters: —

Friendship either finds friends equal, or renders them so.
Amicitia pares aut accipit, autfacit.

A woman loves or hates ; there is no medium.
Aut amat aut odlt mulier; niliil cst tertium.

He who lives in utter solitude is either a beast or an
angel (says Aristotle).

Men act only through interest, or through fear.

The earth moves round the sun, or the sun round the
earth.

Every deliberate action is either good or evil.

The truth of these propositions depends on the necessary
opposition of the parts, which ought to admit of no medium.
But as, in order to be necessarily true, they must admit of
none at all, it suffices that they do not ordinarily admit of
any, in order to be considered as morally true. Hence it
is absolutely true that an action done deliberately is good
or bad, since theologians prove that there are none which
are indifferent ; but when it is said that men act only
through interest, or through fear, it is not absolutely true,
since there are some who act from neither of these passions,

130 COMPOUND PROPOSITIONS. [PART II.

but from consideration of their duty: and thus all the
truth which it contains is, that these are the two motives
which influence the majority of men.

The propositions which are contradictory to the dis
junctives are those in which we deny the truth of the
disjunction ; which is done in Latin by putting the nega
tion at the beginning, as in all the other compound pro
positions : Non omnis actio est bona vel mala ; and in our
language, It is not true that every action is either good or lad.

CONDITIONALS.

Conditionals are those which have two parts united by
the condition if, whereof the first that contains the con
dition is called the antecedent, and the other the consequent.
If the soul is spiritual, is the antecedent, — it is immortal, is
the consequent.

This consequence is sometimes mediate, and sometimes
immediate. It is mediate only when there is nothing in the
terms of either part which binds them together, as when I
say : —

If the earth is immoveable, the sun turns round.
If God is just, sinners will be punished.
These consequences are very good, since the two parts,
having no common term, are connected together only
by that which is in the mind, and which is not expressed ;
that the earth and the sun, being found continually in
different situations with regard to each other, it necessarily
follows, that if one is immoveable, the other moves.

When the consequence is immediate, it must generally
be,

1st, Either when the two parts have the same subject :
If death is a passage to a happier life, it is desirable.
If you have failed to nourish the poor, you have destroyed
them.

Si non pavisti, occidisti.

2d, Or when they have the same attribute :

CHAP. IX.] CONDITIONALS — CAUSALS.

If all trials from God should be dear to us,
Afflictions ought to be so.

3d, Or when the attribute of the first part is the subject
of the second :

I/ patience be a virtue,
There are painful virtues.

4th, Or, lastly, when the subject of the first part is the
attribute of the second, which can only be when the second
part is negative :

If all true Christians live according to the Gospel,
There are few true Christians.

We consider, in relation to these propositions, only the
truth of the consequence; for although both parts were
false, nevertheless, if the consequence of one or the other
is good, the proposition, so far as it is conditional, is true.

as :

If the will of the creature is capable of preventing tht

absolute will of God from being accomplished,
God is not almighty.

Propositions considered as negative or contradictory to
the conditionals, are those only in which the condition is
denied, which is accomplished in Latin by placing tl it-
negation at the beginning :

Non, si miserum fortuna Sinonem
Finxit, van urn etiam mendacemque improba finget.
But in our language we express these contradictions by
although, and a negation :

If you eat of the forbidden fruit, you shall die.

Although you should eat of the forbidden fruit, you Khali

not die.

Or equally well by— It is not true, that if ye eat of the for
bidden fruit ye shall die.

CAUSALS.

Causals are those which contain two propositions eon-

132 COMPOUND PROPOSITIONS. [PART II.

nected by a causal particle, quia, because, — or ut, to tJie end
that :

Wo to the rich, because they have their comfort in this

world.

The wicked are exalted, in order that, falling from a greater
height, their downfal may be greater.
Tolluntur in altum,
Ut lapsu graviore ruant.
They are able, because they believe they are able.

Possunt quia posse videntur.
Such a prince was unhappy, because he was born

under a certain constellation.

We may also reduce to these kinds of propositions those
which are called reduplicatives :
Man, as man, is reasonable.
Kings, as kings, depend on God only.

For the truth of these propositions, it is necessary that
one of the parts be the cause of the other, which makes it
also necessary that both be true ; for that which is false
is not a cause, and has not a cause ; but both parts may
be true, and yet the causal connection false, because it is
enough for this, that one of the parts be not the cause of
the other. Thus a prince may have been unfortunate, and
may have been born under such a constellation, while it
may still be false that he was unhappy because he was born
under that constellation.

Hence the contradictories of these propositions consist
properly in this, that we deny the one to be the cause of
the other :

Non ideo infelix, quia sub hoc natus sidere.

RELATIVES.

Relatives are those which involve comparison and some

relation :

Where the treasure is, there the heart is also.
As a man lives, so he dies.

CHAP. IX.] RELATIVES DISCRETIVES. 153

Tantl es, quantum habeas.

You are valued in the world in proportion to your
•wealth.

The truth depends on the justness of the relation, and
we contradict them by denying the relation :

It is not true, that as a man lives, so he dies.
It is not true that we are valued in the world in pro
portion to our fortune.

DISCRETIVES

Are those in which we make different judgments, denoting
that difference by the particles xed, but, — tauten, nevertheless,
or others like these, expressed or understood :

Fortuna opes auferre, non potest animum.

Fortune may take away wealth, but it cannot take

away virtue.
Et mild res, non me rebus submittere conor.

I try to place myself above circumstances, not to be

the slave of them.

Ca'luin non animum mutant qui trans mare currunt.
They who cross the seas change only the country, not
the disposition.

The truth of this sort of proposition depends on the
two parts, and the separation that is made between them ;
for, though both the parts were true, a proposition of this
kind would be ridiculous if there was no opposition between
them: as, if I said —

Judas was a thief, and yet lie would not suffer Mag
dalene to pour perfumes on Jesus Christ.
A proposition of this sort may have many contradic
tories, as if it were said —

Happiness does not depend on riches but upon, know
ledge.

We may contradict this proposition in all these ways :
Happiness depends on riches, and not upon knowledge.
Happiness depends neither upon riches nor knowledge.
Happiness depends upon riches and knowledge.

134 PROPOSITIONS COMPOUND IN MEANING. [PART II.

Thus we see that copulatives are the contradictories to
the discretives, for these two last propositions are copu
latives.

CHAPTER X.

OP PROPOSITIONS WHICH ARE COMPOUND IN MEANING.

THERE are other compound propositions whose composi
tion is more concealed, these we may reduce to the four
following kinds : — 1. Exclusives. 2. Exceptives. 3. Com
paratives. 4. Inceptives, or Desitives.

1. EXCLUSIVES.

We call exclusives those which indicate that the attribute
agrees with the subject, and that it agrees with that subject
only, which denotes that it agrees with no others ; whence,
it follows that they contain two different judgments, and
that they are, consequently, compound in meaning. This
is expressed by the word alone, or some other like it — (or,
in French, il n'y a) — God alone is worthy of being loved
for his own sake.

Deus solus fruendus, reliqua utcnda.

That is to say, we ought to love God for his own sake,
and to love other things for God's sake.
Quas dederis solas semper habelis opes.

The only riches which will remain with you are those

which you have freely given away.
Nobilitas sola est atque unica virtus.

Virtue alone is true nobility.

Hoc unum scio quod ni/til scio, said the Academics.
It is certain that there is nothing certain, and there is
only obscurity and uncertainty in everything else.

CHAP. X.] EXCLUSIVES. 135

Lucian, speaking of the Druids, gives these disjunctive
propositions composed of two exclusives :

Solis nosse dcos, et cceli numina vobis,
Ant soils neseire datum est.

Either you know the gods, while all besides are ignor
ant of them ;
Or, you are ignorant of them, while all others know

them.

These propositions are contradicted in three ways ; for,
1st, It may be denied that what is said to agree with a
single subject does not agree with it at all.

Id, It may be maintained that it agrees with something

else.

3d, Both may be maintained.

Thus, against this sentence, that virtue alone is true nobility,

we may say —

1. That virtue alone does not confer nobility.

2. That birth confers nobility as well as ^virtue.

3. That birth confers nobility, and not virtue.

Thus, that maxim of the Academics, that it is certain that
there is nothing certain, was contradicted differently by the
Dogmatists and the Pyrrhonists ; for the Dogmatists op
posed it, by maintaining that it was doubly false, since
there are many things which we know with the utmost
certainty, and that thus it was not true that we were cer
tain of knowing nothing ; and the Pyrrhonists also said
that it was false, for a contrary reason, viz., that it was
even uncertain whether there were nothing certain.

Hence, there is a defect of judgment in what Lucian
said of the Druids, since it was not necessary that the
Druids held the truth in relation to the gods, or that they
only were in error ; for, since different errors may be held
touching the nature of God, it might easily happen, al
though the Druids had opinions touching the nature of a
God different from other nations, they were not less in
error than other nations.

What is more remarkable, is, that there are propositions
of this kind which are exclusives in sense, although the
exclusion may not be expressed : thus that verse of \ irgi
in which the exclusion is denoted —

136 PROPOSITIONS COMPOUND IN MEANING. [PART II.

Una solus metis nullam sperare salutem,
Has been happily translated by this French verse, by
which the exclusion is understood.

Le salut des vaincus est de n'en point attendre.
The safety of the vanquished is to look for none.
It is, however, much more common, in Latin, to under
stand exclusions, so that there are often passages which
cannot be translated in all their force, although, in Latin,
the exclusion may not be expressed.

Thus — 2 Corinthians, x. 17. — Qui gloriatur in domine
glorietur— ought to be translated : He who glories, let him
glory in the Lord alone.

Galat. vi. 7. — Quce seminaverit homo, licec et metet.

A man shall reap only that which he has sown.
Ephes. iv. 5. — Unus Dominus, una fides, unum baptisma.
There is only one Lord, one faith, and one baptism.
Matt. v. 46. — Si diligitis eos qui vos diligunt, quam merce-
dem habebitis ?

If you love those only who love you, what reward do

you deserve ?

Seneca in his Troad.— Nullas habet spes Troja, si tales
habet.

If Troy has only this hope, it has none : as if he had
said — Si tantum tales habet.

2. EXCEPTIVES.

Exceptives are those in which we affirm a thing of a
whole subject, with the exception of certain inferiors of
that subject, to which we show, by some exceptive par
ticles, that this does not belong. This clearly involves two
judgments, and thus renders these propositions compound
in sense : as when I say —

None of the ancient philosophers, except the Platonists,
recognised the spirituality of God. This means two
things. First, that the ancient philosophers believed God
corporeal; second, that the Platonists believed the con
trary.

Avarus nisi cum moritur, m'hil recte facit.

The avaricious man does no good, except by dying.

CHAP. X.] EXCEPTIVES — COMPARATIVES. 137

Et miser nemo, riisi comparatus.

No one thinks himself miserable, except by compar
ing himself with those who are more happy.
Nemo Iceditur nisi a seipso.

We have no evil, except what we do to ourselves
Except the wise man, said the Stoics, all men are

truly fools.

These propositions may be contradicted in the same way
as the exclusives.

1. By maintaining that the wise man of the Stoics
was a fool as well as other men.

2. By maintaining that there were others, besides
their wise man, who were not fools.

3. By affirming that the wise man of the Stoics was
a fool, and that other men were not.

It must be remarked that the exclusive and the inceptive
propositions are, if we may so speak, only the same thing
expressed somewhat differently, so that it is always very easy
to change them reciprocally from the one to the other ; and
thus we see that exceptive proposition of Terence —
Imperitus, nisi quod ipsefacit, nihil rectum putat.
has been changed by Cornelius Gallus into that exclusive —
Hoc tantum rectum quodfacit ipse putat.

3. COMPARATIVES.

Propositions in which we compare contain two judg
ments, since it is one tiling to say that a thing is such, and
another thing to say that it is more or less such, than
another ; and thus these kinds of propositions are compound
in sense.

A niicum perdere, est damnorum maximum.

The greatest of all losses is the loss of a friend.

Ridiculum acri

Fortius ac melius maynas plerumque secat res.
We often produce more impression, even in most im
portant matters, by a little agreeable raillery, than
by argument.

138 PROPOSITIONS COMPOUND IN MEANING. [PART II.

Meliora sunt vulnera amid quoin fraudulenta oscula
inimici.

Better are the blows of a friend than the treacherous
kisses of an enemy.

These propositions may be contradicted in many ways :
as, that maxim of Epicurus, — that pain is the greatest of
all evils, — was contradicted in one way by the Stoics, and
in another way by the Peripatetics ; for the Peripatetics
allowed that pain was an evil, but maintained that vices,
and other irregularities of the mind, were much greater
evils, whereas, the Stoics would not even acknowledge
pain to be an evil, so far were they from admitting that it
was the greatest of all evils.

There is a question which may be here discussed, viz. :
Whether it is always necessary, in these propositions, that
the positive or the comparative belong to both members of
the comparison ; and if, for instance, it is necessary to
suppose that two things are good, before we can say that
one is better than the other. It appears at first that this
must be so ; but custom is opposed to it, since we see that
the Scriptures employ the word better, not only in compar
ing together two things which are good : melior est sapien-
tia quam vires, et vir prudens qvam fortis. Wisdom is better
than strength, and the prudent man than the strong man.
But also in comparing a good with an evil, melior est pa-
tiens arrogante. A. patient man is better than a proud one.

And even in comparing two evils together, melius est
habitare cum dracone, quam cum muliere litigiosa. It is bet
ter to live with a dragon than with a quarrelsome woman.
And in the Gospel, It is better that a man be cast into the
sea, with a stone about his neck, than to scandalize the
least of the faithful.

The reason of this usage is that a larger good is better
than a smaller one, because there is more of goodness in
it than a smaller good. Now, for the same reason, though
with less propriety, we may say that a good is better than
an evil, because it has more of goodness in it than that
which has none. And we may also say that a smaller
evil is better than a larger evil, since the diminution of
evil, holding the place of good among evils, that which is

CHAP. X.] INCEPTIVES OF DESITIVES.

less bad has more of his kind of goodness than that which
is worse.

We should therefore avoid the unnecessary embarrassment
which arises in the heat of debate, from wrangling on these
forms of speech, as was done by a Donatist grammarian
named Cresconius, in writing against St Augustine, that
saint having said that the Catholics had more reason to
reproach the Donatists with having abandoned the sacred
books, than the Donatists had to reproach the Catholics,
traditionem nos vobis pmbabiUus objicimus, Cresconius ima
gined that he might conclude from these Avords that St
Augustine allowed that the Donatists had ground to re
proach the Catholics, Si enim vos probabilius, says he, nos
ergo probabiliter; nam yradus iste quod ante positiun ^ eat
auget non quod ante dictum est, improbat. But St Augustine,
first refuted that vain subtilety by examples from _ the
Scriptures, and among others, that passage in the epistle
to the Hebrews, in which St Paul, having said that that
ground which bore only thorns, was accursed, and fit only
for the fire, adds, conjidimus autem de vobis fratres carissimi
meliora, non qida, says that Father, bona ilia erant qua
supra du-erat, profcrre spmas et tribute*, et ultionem mereri,
sed macjis qula mala erant ut illis devitatis meliora cligerent et
optarent, hoc cst, mala tantis bonis contraria. And then
he showed him, from the most celebrated authors of his art,
how false this consequence was, since he might, in the
same way, reproach Virgil with having reckoned as a good
thing the violence of a disease which leads men to tear
themselves with their own teeth, because he wishes a bet
ter fortune to good people :

Dii meliora piis, erroremque hostilms ilium ;
Discissos nudis laiiiabant dentibus artus ;

Quomodo ergo meliora piis, says that Father, quasi bona
essent istis, ac non potius magna mala qui discissos nudis lama-
bant dentibus artus.

4. IXCEPTIVES OR DESITIVES.

When we say that a thing has commenced or ceased to

140 PROPOSITIONS COMPOUND IN MEANING. [PART II.

be such, we form two judgments, — one, what the thing
was before the time of which we speak, the other, what it
is after; and thus these propositions of which the one
class is called inceptives, the other desitives, are compound in
sense, and they are so like that it is more to the purpose
to consider them as only one species, and treat of them
together.

The Jews commenced, after the return from the captivity of
Babylon, to disuse their ancient characters, which are those
tvhich are now called the Samaritan.

1, The Latin language has, for Jive hundred years, ceased
to be common in Italy.

2, The Jews did not begin to use points for marking the
vowels until Jive hundred years after Christ,

These propositions may be contradicted, according to
either of their relations to the two different times. Thus
some are contradicted last, by maintaining, though falsely,
that the Jews always used points, at least for their books,
and that these were kept in the temple ; and others con
tradicted it by maintaining the contrary, i.e., by saying
that the use of points is still later than the fifth century.

GENERAL REFLECTIONS.

Although we have showed that the propositions — ex
clusive, exceptives, &c. — may be contradicted in several
ways, it is nevertheless true, that when we deny them
simply, without any further explanation, the negation falls
naturally on the exclusion, on the exception, on the com
parison, on the change denoted by the words of beginning
and of ending. Hence, if a man believes that Epicurus
did not place the chief good in bodily pleasure, and it were
told him that Epicurus alone placed in it the chief good ; if
he denied this simply, without adding anything else, it
would not fully express his opinion, because it might be
believed, from that simple negation, that he still allowed
that Epicurus had indeed placed the sovereign good in
bodily pleasure, but that he believes that he was not alone
in that opinion.

In the same way, if, knowing the probity of a judge,

CHAP. XI.] OBSERVATIONS FOR DISCOVERING, ETC. 141

any one should ask me if lie sold justice still, I could not
simply reply by saying no, since the no would signify that
he did not sell it now, but would leave it to be inferred, at
the same time, that I allowed that he had formerly sold it.
Hence it may be seen that there are some propositions
which it would be unjust to demand that any one should
answer simply by yes or no, since, as they involve two
senses, no one could not justly reply to them without ex
plaining himself in relation to both.

CHAPTER XL

OBSERVATIONS FOR THE PURPOSE OF DISCOVERING THE
SUBJECT AND THE ATTRIBUTE IN CERTAIN PROPOSITIONS
EXPRESSED IN AN UNUSUAL MANNER.

IT is doubtless a defect in common logic, that those who
study it are accustomed to find out the nature of proposi
tions or reasonings, only as they follow the order and
arrangement according to which they are fashioned in the
schools, which is often very different from that according
to which they are fashioned in the world, and in books —
whether of eloquence, or of morals, or of other sciences.
Thus we have scarcely any other idea of subject and attri
bute, except that the one is the first term of a proposition,
and the other the last ; — and of universality and particu
larity, except that there is in the one omnis or nulltia, (til or
none, — and in the other, aliquis, some.

Nevertheless all this leads astray very often, and it is
necessary to exercise judgment in order to discriminate
these things in many propositions. We will commence
with the subject and attribute.

The sole and the true rule is, to consider l>y the sense
that of which ice affirm, and that which we affirm; for the
first 'is always the subject, and the last the attribute, in
whatever order they may be found.

142 OBSERVATIONS FOR DISCOVERING, ETC. [PART II.

Thus there is nothing more common in Latin than such
propositions as these : — Turpe est obsequi libidini, — It is dis
graceful to be a slave of one's passions ; — in which it is
plain from the sense, that turpe, disgraceful, is that which
we affirm, and, consequently, the attribute ; and obsequi
libidini that of which we affirm, i. e. what we declare to be
disgraceful, and, consequently, the subject. So again, in
St Paul, Est qucestus magnus pietas, cum svfficientia ; the true
order will be, Pietas cum sufficientia est qucestus magnus.

So also in these verses, —

Felix qui potuit rerum cognoscere causas ;
Atque metus omnes, et inexorabile fatum
Subjecit pedibus strepitumque Acherontis avari ;
Felix is the attribute, and the rest the subject.

The subject and the attribute are often still more diffi
cult to discover in complex propositions ; and we have
already seen that we can sometimes only judge by the
sequel of the discourse, and the intention of the author,
which is the principal proposition, and which the inci
dental, in such propositions.

But, in addition to what we have already said, we may
further remark, that in those complex propositions, in
which the first part and the last are the principal, as in
the major and the conclusion of the following reasoning : —
God commands us to honour kings;
Louis XIV. is king;

Therefore God commands us to honour Louis XIV.
It is often necessary to change the active verb into the
passive, in order to obtain the true subject of that principal
proposition, as in this very example. For it is clear that,
reasoning thus, my principal intention in the major is to
affirm something, from which I may conclude that we
ought to honour Louis XIV. ; and thus what I say of the
Divine command is, properly, only an incidental proposi
tion, confirming this affirmation, Kings ought to be honoured
— Eeges sunt honorandi ; whence it follows that kings is the
subject of the major, and Louis XIV. the subject of the
conclusion, although, at first sight, each appears to be only
a part of the attribute.

The following, also, are propositions very common in
our language : — ft is foolish to listen to flatterers — It is hail

CHAP. XII.] CONFUSED SUBJECTS.

143

which falls — It is a God who has redeemed iis. Now the
sense proves to us, that in order to arrange them in their
natural order, placing the subject before the attribute, we
must express them thus :— To listen to flatterers is folly—
That u-hich falls is hail — He v:ho has redeemed us is God.
And this is almost universal in all propositions which
commence with it is, where there is afterwards found a
which or that, that they have their attribute at the com
mencement, and their subject at the end. It is sufficient
to have adverted to this now ; and all these examples are
but to show that we ought to judge by the sense, and not
by the order of the words. This advice is very necessary,
that we be not deceived by considering syllogisms as
vicious which are in reality very good ones ; since, for
want of discriminating the subject and the attribute, we
think they arc contrary to the rules when they are exactly
conformed to them.

CHAPTER XII.

OF CONFUSED SUBJECTS WHICH ARE EQUIVALENT TO TWO
SUBJECTS.

IT is important, in order to understand better the nature
of what is called subject in propositions, to add here a
remark which has been made in more important works
than this, but which, since it belongs to logic, may find a
place here.

It is, that when two or more things which have some
resemblance succeed each other in the same place, and,
principally, when there does not appear any sensible dif
ference between them, although men may distinguish them
in speaking metaphysically, they nevertheless do not dis
tinguish them in their ordinary speech; but, embracing
them under a common idea, which does not exhibit the

144 CONFUSED SUBJECTS WHICH ARE [PART II.

difference, and denotes only what they have in common,
they speak of them as if they were the same thing.

Thus, though we change the air every moment, never
theless we consider the air which surrounds us as being
always the same ; and we say that, from being cold, it has
become warm, as if it were the same, whereas often that
air which we feel cold is not the same as that which we
find warm.

This water, we also say, in speaking of a river, was
turbid two days ago, and, behold, now it is clear as crystal;
while it is impossible it could be the same water. In idem
flumen bis non descendirmis, says Seneca, manet idem fluminis
nomen, aqua transmissa est.

We consider the bodies of animals, and speak of them,
as being always the same, though we are assured, that at
the end of a few years there remains no part of the matter
which at first composed them ; and not only do we speak
of them as the same body, without reflecting what we say,
but we do so also when we reflect expressly on the subject.
For common language allows us to say, The body of this
animal was composed ten years ago of certain parts of
matter, and now it is composed of parts altogether different.
There appears to be some contradiction in speaking thus ;
for if the parts were altogether different, then is it not the
same body. It is true ; but we speak of it, nevertheless,
as of the same body. And what renders these propositions
true is, that the same term is taken for different subjects
in this different application.

Augustus said that he had found the city of Rome of
brick, and had left it of marble, in the same way we say
of a town, of a mansion, of a church, that it was destroyed
at such a time, and rebuilt at such another time. What,
then, is this Some, which was at one time of brick, and at
another time of marble? What are these towns, these
mansions, and churches, which are destroyed at one time,
and rebuilt at another ? Is the Some of brick the same as
the Some of marble ? No ; but the mind, nevertheless,
forms to itself a certain confused idea of Some, to which it
attributes these two qualities — being of brick at one time,
and of marble at another. And when it afterwards forms
propositions about it, and when it says, for example, that

CHAP. XII.] EQUIVALENT TO TWO SUBJECTS. 14o

Rome, which was brick before the time of Augustus, was
marble when he died, — the word Rome, which appears to
be only one subject, denotes, nevertheless, two, which are
really distinct, but united under the confused idea of Rome,
which prevents the mind from perceiving the distinction
of these subjects.

It is by this means that the author of the book from
which we borrowed this remark has cleared up the affected
perplexity which the ministers delight to find in that pro
position — this is mil body — which no one would ever find,
following the light of common sense. For, as we should
never think of saying it was a proposition very perplexed,
and very difficult to be understood, if we said of a church
which had been burned and rebuilt — this church was
burned ten years ago, and has been rebuilt in a twelve
month — in the same way, we could not reasonably say
there was any difficulty in understanding this proposition,
— that irhich is bread at this moment is my bod// at this other
moment. It is true that it is not the same this in these dif
ferent moments, as the burned church and the rebuilt
church arc not really the same church ; but the mind con
ceiving the bread and the body of Jesus Christ under the
common idea of a present object, which it expresses by
this, attributes to that object, which is really twofold, and
only unity of confusion, the being bread at one moment,
and the body of Jesus Christ at another, just as, having
formed of that church burned and rebuilt, the common idea
of a chm'ch, it gives to that confused idea two attributes,
which cannot belong to the same subject.

Hence it follows that, taken in the sense of the Catholics,
there is no difficulty in the proposition, this is mi/ bod//, since
it is only an abridgment of this other proposition, which
is perfectly clear, — that which is bread at this moment is m//
body at this other moment — and since the mind supplies all
that is not expressed. As we have remarked at the end
of the First Part, when we used the demonstrative pronoun
hoc to denote something which is presented to our senses,
the precise idea formed by the pronoun remaining con
fused, the mind adds thereto the clear and distinct ideas
obtained from the senses, in the form of an incidental pro
position. Thus, when Jesus Christ pronounced the word

146 CONFUSED SUBJECTS, ETC. [PART II.

this, the minds of the apostles added to it, which is bread,
and as they conceived that it was bread at that moment,
they made, also, the addition of time, and thus the word
tlm formed also this idea, — this ivhich is bread at this moment.
In the same way, when Christ said that it was his body, they
conceived that this was his body at that moment. Thus the
expression, this is my body, formed in them that total pro
position, this ivhich is bread at this moment is my body
at this other moment ; and this expression being clear, the
abridgment of the proposition, which diminishes nothing
of the idea, is so also.

And as to the difficulty proposed by the ministers, that
the same thing cannot be bread and the body of Jesus
Christ, since it belongs equally to the extended proposi
tion — this which is bread at this moment is my body at this
other moment — and the abridged proposition — this is my body
— it is clear that it is no better than a frivolous wrangling,
which might be alleged equally against these propositions:
this church was burned at such a time, and rebuilt at such
another time ; and that they must all be disintricated through
this way of conceiving many separate subjects under a
single idea, which occasions the same term to be sometimes
taken for one term and sometimes for another, without any
notice being taken by the mind of this transition from one
subject to another.

After all, we do not here profess to decide the import
ant question touching the way in which we ought to
understand these words, whether in a figurative or in a
literal sense ; for it is not enough to show that a proposi
tion may be taken in a certain sense, but it ought to be
proved that it must be so taken. But as there are some
ministers who, on the principles of a false logic, obstinately
maintain that the words of Jesus Christ cannot bear a
catholic sense, it is not out of place to show here, briefly,
that the catholic sense has in it nothing but what is clear,
reasonable, and conformed to the common language of all
mankind.

CHAP. XIII.] PROPOSITIONS-UNIVERSAL OR PARTICULAR. 147

CHAPTER XIII.

OTHER OBSERVATIONS FOR THE PURPOSE OF FINDING OUT
WHETHER PROPOSITIONS ARE UNIVERSAL OR PARTICULAR.

WE may make some observations of the like kind, and
equally important, touching the universality and particu
larity of propositions.

1st OBSERVATION. — We must distinguish between two
lands of universality, the one, which may be called meta
physical, the other moral.

We call universality, metaphysical, when it is perfect
without exception, as, ever// man is living, which admits of
no exception.

And universality, moral, when it admits of some excep
tion, since in moral things it is sufficient that things are
generally such, ut plurimum, as, that which St Paul quotes
and approves of:

Cretenses semper mendaccs, mala? bestice, venires pigri.
Or, what the same apostle says : Omnes quce sua sunt
qucerunt, non quce Jesu-Christi ;
Or, as Horace says :

Omnibus hoc vitium est cantoribus, inter amicos
Ut nunquam inducant animum cantare rogati;
Injussi nunquam desistant;
Or, the common aphorisms :

That all women love to talk.
That all young people are inconstant.
That all old people praise past times.
It is enough, in all such propositions, that the thing
be commonly so, and we ought not to conclude anything
strictly from them.

For, as these propositions are not so general as to ad
mit of no exceptions, the conclusion may be false, as it
could not be inferred of each Cretan in particular, that he
was a liar and an evil beast, although the apostle approves

148 PROPOSITIONS UNIVERSAL OR PARTICULAR. [PART II.

generally of this verse of one of their poets — The Cretans
are always liars, evil beasts, great gluttons — because there
might be some persons who had not the vices which were
common to the others.

Thus the moderation which ought to be observed in
these propositions, which are only morally universal, is,
on the one hand, to draw particular conclusions only with
great judgment, and, on the other, not to contradict them,
or reject them as false, although instances may be adduced
in which they do not hold, but, to satisfy ourselves, if we
hear them carried too far, with showing that they ought
not to be taken so strictly.

2d OBSERVATION. — There are some propositions which
ought to be considered as metaphysical universals, though
they may admit of exceptions, when in common custom it
is not necessary for these extraordinary exceptions to be
comprised in universal terms : as, if I say — all men have
two arms — this proposition ought to be considered as true,
in ordinary use. And it would be only wrangling to
maintain that there had been monsters, who, although they
had four arms, were nevertheless considered men ; be
cause it is sufficiently clear, in these general propositions,
we do not speak of monsters, but we mean to say that, in
the order of nature, men have but tAvo arms.

We may say, also, in the same way, that all men em
ploy sounds for the purpose of expressing their thoughts,
but that all men do not employ writing ; and it would not
be a reasonable objection to this, that mutes may be found
to falsify this proposition, since it is clear enough, without
being expressed, that this ought to be understood only of
those who have no natural impediment to the use of
sounds, either because they cannot learn them, as is the
case with those who are born deaf, or because they cannot
form them, as is the case with the dumb.

3d OBSERVATION. — There are some propositions which
are universal, only because they ought to be understood de
generibus singulorum, and not de singulis generum, as the
philosophers say ; i. e., of all the species of each genus,
and not of all the particulars of these species. Thus we
say that all animals were saved in Noah's ark, because

CHAP. XIII.] PROPOSITIONS-UNIVERSAL OR PARTICULAR. 14i)

some of every species were saved in it. Jesus Christ
also said of the Pharisees, that they paid the tenth of all
herbs, decimatis omne olus, — not that they paid a tenth of
all the herbs in the Avorld, but because there were no
kinds of herbs whereof they did not pay a tenth. Thus,
too, St Paul says, Sicut et ego omnibus per omnia placeo, —
that is to say, that he accommodated himself to all sorts
of persons — Jews, Gentiles, Christians, — although he did
not seek to please his persecutors, who were so numerous.
Thus we say, also, that a man has passed through all offices,
that is, through every kind of office.

4th OBSERVATION. — There are some propositions which
are universal only because the subject is to be taken as re
stricted by a part of the attribute. I say, by a part ; for it
would be ridiculous for it to be restrained by the whole
attribute, as if it were maintained, for instance, that this
proposition were true, All men are just, because it was to
be understood in this sense — that all just men are just,
which would be frivolous. But when the attribute is com
plex, and has two parts, as in this proposition, All men
are just, through the grace of Jesus Christ; and it may be
maintained, with reason, that the term just is understood
in the subject, though it be not expressed, since it is suffi
ciently clear that it is intended to say only, that all men
who are just, are so through the grace of Jesus Christ
alone. And thus, this proposition is rigorously true,
though it might appear false, if we consider only what is
expressed in the subject, — there being so many men who
are wicked, or evil-doers, and who, consequently, have not
been justified through the grace of Jesus Christ. There
are a very great number of propositions in Scripture which
ought to be taken in this sense, and, among others, that
one in which St Paul says, As in Adam all die, so also
in Christ all are made aline. For it is certain that a
multitude of heathens, who have died in their infidelity,
have not been made alive in Jesus Christ, — that they have
no part in that glorious life of which St Paul here speaks.
Thus the meaning of the apostle is, that as all those who
die, die through Adam, so all those who are made alive,
are made alive through Jesus Christ.

150 PROPOSITIONS — UNIVERSAL OR PARTICULAR. [PART II.

There are also many propositions which are morally
universal in this way only, as when we say, The French
are good soldiers, — The Dutch are good sailors, — The Flem
ish are good painters, — The Italians are good comedians ;
we mean to say that the French who are soldiers, are
commonly good soldiers, and so of the rest.

5th OBSERVATION. — We are not to suppose that there
is no other mark of particularity than the words quidam,
aliquis — some, and the like. For, on the contrary, it very
seldom happens that we use them, especially in our lan
guage (French).

When the particle des or de is the plural of the article
un, according to the new remark of the General Grammar,
it causes the nouns to be taken particularly, whereas they
are commonly taken generally, with the article les. Hence
there is a great deal of difference between these two pro
positions, Les medecins croient maintenant qu'il est bon de
boire pendant le chaud de la fievre, — Physicians believe now
that it is well to drink during the heat of the fever ; and, Des
medecins croient maintenant que le sang ne se fait point dans le
foie, — Some physicians believe now that the blood is not made
in the liver. For les medecins, in the first, denotes the mass
of physicians at the present day ; and des medecins, in the
second, denotes only some particular physicians.

But after or before de, or des, or un, in the singular, we
place il y a (there is, or are), as, il y a des medecins ; and
this in two ways :

The first is, by simply placing after des or un the sub
stantive to be the subject to the proposition, whether it be
the first or the last : as, II y a des douleurs salutaires ; il y a
des plaisirs funestes ; il y a de faux amis ; il y a une
humilite genereuse ; il y a des vices converts de Vapparence
de la vertu. In this way we express in our (French)
language, that which is expressed by quelques in the style
of the school : Quelques douleurs sont salutaires ; quelque
humilite est genereuse ; and thus in the others.

The second way is that of joining the adjective to the
substantive by a qui (who, or which) : II y a des craintes
qui sont raisonnables — (There are some fears which are
reasonable). But this qui does not prevent these proposi-

CHAP. XIII.] PROPOSITIONS-UNIVERSAL OR PARTICULAR. 151

tions from being simple in sense, though complex in ex
pression ; for it is as if we said simply, Quelques cmintes
sont raisonnables. These following forms of speech are
still more common than the preceding :— 11 y a des hommes
qui n'aiment q'eiix memes ; il y a des Chretiens qui sont tn-
dignes de wow— (There are men who love themselves alone ;
there are Christians who are unworthy of the name).
We have the same expression sometimes used in Latin :
Sunt quibus in satyr u videor nimis acer, et ultra
Leqern tendere opus;
Which 'is the same thing as if it were said,

Quid-am existimant me nimis acrem esse in satyra,-—
There are some who think me too pointed in satire.
So also in the Scripture, Eat qui nequiter^ se humilmt,—
There are some who humble themselves wickedly.

Omnis, all, with a negation, makes a particular proposi
tion, with this difference, that in Latin the negation pre
cedes omnis, and in French it follows all (tout): Non
omnis qui dlcit mi hi Dominc, Doming intrabit in reg-
num ccelorum,—Sot all who say unto me, Lord, Lord,
shall enter into the kingdom of heaven; Non omne pcc-
catum est crtww>»,— Every sin is not a crime.

Nevertheless, in Hebrew, non omnis is often put tor
nullus, as in the psalm, Non justificabHur in conspectu tuo
omnis mvens,—Ko man living shall be justified before
God. This happens, because, in this case, the negatic
falls on the verb, and not on omnis.

6th OBSERVATION.— The foregoing observations are very
useful when there is a term of universality, as all, none.
&c • but when there is no such term, and none of particu
larity either, as when I say, Man is rational, man is just, it
is a celebrated question among philosophers, whether these
propositions, which they call indefinite, ought to be called
universal or particular. This question must be understood
of those which have no context, and which are not dete
mined by what follows, to either of these senses ; fi
cannot be doubted that we ought to determine the sense
a proposition, where it has any ambiguity, by what accom
panies it in the discourse of which it forms a part.

Considering it in itself, then, philosophers say that

152 PROPOSITIONS — UNIVERSAL OR PARTICULAR. [PART II.

ought to be considered universal in necessary matter, and
particular in contingent matter,

I find this maxim approved of by very able men. It is,
nevertheless, very false ; and it may be said, on the con
trary, that when we attribute any quality to a common term,
the indefinite proposition ought to be considered universal, what
ever its matter may be. And thus, in contingent matters, it
ought not to be considered as a particular proposition, but
as a universal, which is false. And this is the natural
judgment which all men form of such propositions, reject
ing them as false when they are not true generally, at
least when they have not moral generality, with which men
rest satisfied in their common discourses about things in
the world.

For who would allow it to be said, that bears are white;
that men are black; that the Parisians are gentlemen ; that
Poles are Socinians ; that Englishmen are Quakers ? and
yet, according to the distinction of these philosophers,
these propositions ought to be considered quite true, since,
being indefinite in contingent matter, they ought to be
reckoned particular. Now it is very true that there are
some bears white, as those of Nova Zembla ; some men
black, as the Ethiopians ; some Parisians gentlemen ; some
Poles Socinians ; some Englishmen Quakers. It is, there
fore, clear, that in any matter whatever, indefinite pro
positions of this kind are taken universally ; but in a con
tingent matter we are satisfied with moral universality.
Whence we may very well say, The French are brace ; the
Italians suspicious ; the Germans heavy ; the Orientals volup
tuous; although this may not be true of every individual,
because we are satisfied that it is true of the majority.

There is, then, another distinction on this subject, which
is much more reasonable, which is, that these indefinite pro
positions are universal in matters of doctrine : as, angels
have no body — and they are only particular in matters of
fact and of history, as when it is said in the Gospel —
Milites plectentes coronam de spinis, imposuerunt capiti ejus.
It is very clear that this ought to be understood only of some
soldiers, and not of all soldiers ; the reason of which is,
that in the case of particular actions, especially when they
are determined to a given time, they generally agree to

CHAP. XIII.] PROPOSITIONS-UNIVERSAL OR PARTICULAR. 153

belong to a common term, only because of some particulars,
a distinct idea of which is in the mind of those who make
these propositions, so that, considering them aright, these
propositions are rather singular than particular, as we
may judge from what has been said of terms complex in
sense.— (1st Part, Cap. 8 ; 2d Part, Cap. 6.)

7th OBSERVATION. — The names of body, of community,
people, when taken collectively, as they commonly are, tor
the whole body, the whole community, the whole people,
do not, properly, make the propositions into which they
enter universal, still less particular, but rather singular, as
when I say — the Romans conquered the Carthaginians—
the Venetians carry on war against the Turks — the judges
of such a place have condemned a criminal. These pro
positions are not universal, otherwise AVC might conclude
of every Roman that he had conquered the Carthaginians,
which would be false ; neither are they particular, for this
means more than if I were to say — some Romans con
quered the Carthaginians ;— but they are singular, inas
much as we consider every nation as a moral person,
whose existence is for several centuries, — who remains as
long as he composes a state, and who acts through all
these ages by those who compose it, as a man acts by his
members. Whence it happens that we may say that the
Romans, who were conquered by the Gauls who took
Rome, conquered the Gauls in the time of Cuesar, attribut
ing thus to the same term, Romans, being conquered at
one time, and victorious at another, though, at one of these
times, there was not a single man who was also at the
other. And this shows the foundation of the vanity which
each individual has on account of the noble actions of his
nation, in which he had no part, and which is as senseless
as it would be for an ear which was deaf, to glory in the
quickness of the eye, or in the skill of the hand.

3 54 PROPOSITIONS — NAMES OF THINGS [PART II.

CHAPTER XIV.

OF PROPOSITIONS IN WHICH THE NAME OF THINGS IS
GIVEN TO SIGNS.

WE have said, in the First Part, that of ideas some have
things for their objects, others signs. Now, since these
ideas of signs attached to words enter into the composition
of propositions, a circumstance happens which it is import
ant to examine in this place, and which properly belongs
to logic — it is, that we sometimes affirm of them the thing
signified. And it is important to know when it is right
to do this, principally in relation to the signs of institution ;
for, in relation to natural signs, there is no difficulty, since
the visible connection there is between such signs and
things, indicates clearly that when we affirm of the sign
the thing signified, we mean not that sign is really this
thing, but that it is so in intent, and figuratively. And
thus we might say, without any introduction, and without
ceremony, of a portrait of Caesar, this is Caesar, and of a
map of Italy, this is Italy.

It is only necessary, therefore, that we examine the rule
which allows us to affirm of things signified their signs, in
relation to instituted signs, which do not make known, by
any visible relation, the sense in which these propositions
are to be understood ; and this has given rise to many dis
putes.

For it appears to some that this may be done indiffer
ently, and that it is sufficient, in order to prove that a pro
position is reasonable, when taken in a figurative sense,
and in the sense of sign, to say that it is common to give
to the sign the name of the thing signified. And yet this
is not true, for there are a multitude of propositions which
would be extravagant, if we were to give to signs the name
of the thing signified, which is never done, because they
are extravagant. Thus a man who has settled it in his
mind that certain things should signify others, would be

CHAP. XIV.] GIVEN TO SIGNS. 15o

ridiculous, if, without having previously explained it to
any one, he should take the liberty of giving to these fan
ciful signs the names of things, and should say, for instance,
that a stone was a horse, and an ass -was the king of Persia,
because he had established these signs in his mind. Thus
the first rule that ought to be followed on this subject, is,
that we are not allowed to give indifferently the names of
things to signs.

The second, which is a consequence of the first, is, that
the simple manifest incompatibility of the terms is not a
sufficient reason to lead the mind to the figurative sense,
and to conclude that, since the proposition cannot be taken
literally, it must, therefore, be explained in a figurative
sense ; otherwise there would be none of these extravagant
propositions ; and the more impossible they were in their
literal sense, the more easily should we fall into their
figurative sense, which, nevertheless, must not be ; ^ for
wlio would allow, and without any previous explanation,
but solely and virtually of a secret determination, that one
should say that the sea is heaven, that the earth is the moon,
that a tree is a king. Who does not see that it would be the
shortest way to acquire the reputation of folly to pretend
to introduce this language into the world ? It is necessary,
therefore, that he to whom we speak be prepared, in a cer
tain way, before we have a right to employ such proposi
tions ; and it must be remarked, that of these explanations
there are some which are certainly insufficient, and others
which are certainly sufficient.

1st, Distant relations, which do not present themselves
to the senses, nor, at first sight, to the mind, and which
are only discovered by meditation, are by no means suffi
cient to give at once to signs the names of things signified,
for there are scarcely any things between which we may not
find such relations ; and it is clear, that relations which
are not seen at once, are not sufficient to lead us to the
figurative sense.

2d, It is not sufficient to give to a sign the name oi 1
thing signified, in the first establishment which is made of
it, to know that those to whom we speak have hitherto
considered it as a sign of another thing altogether different.
We know, for example, that the laurel was the sign ot

156 PROPOSITIONS — NAMES OF THINGS [PART II.

victory, and the olive of peace ; but this knowledge by no
means prepares the mind to find what is meant, if we, who
chose to make the laurel the sign of the king of China, and
the olive that of the Grand Seigneur, should say without cere
mony, in walking in a garden, do you see that laurel ? it is
the king of China ; and that olive? it is the Grand Turk.

3d, Any previous explanation, which only prepares the
mind to expect some great thing, without preparing it to
consider, in particular, the thing as a sign, does not at all
afford sufficient ground for attributing to this sign the name
of the thing signified at its first institution. The reason
of this is clear, since there is no direct and natural connec
tion between the idea of greatness and the idea of a sign,
and thus the one does not at all lead to the other.

But it is certainly a sufficient ground for giving to signs
the names of things, when we see in the minds of those to
whom we speak, that, considering certain things as signs,
they are in difficulty only as to what they signify.

Thus Joseph might reply to Pharaoh, that the seven fat
kine and the seven full sheaves which he had seen in his
dream were seven years of plenty, and the seven lean kine
and the seven thin sheaves were seven years of famine,
since he saw that Pharaoh was in trouble only on this
point, and that he inwardly asked himself this question —
What do these seven fat and lean kine, these seven full
and empty sheaves, represent?

Thus Daniel answered very appropriately to Nebuchad
nezzar — that he was the head of gold, because he had pro
posed to him a dream which he had of a statue with a
golden head, and required from him its interpretation.

Thus, when we utter a parable, and proceed to explain
it (those to whom it was spoken, considering already all
that composed it as signs), we have a right, in the explana
tion of every part, to give to the sign the name of the
thing signified.

Thus God having shown to the prophet Ezekiel in a
vision, in spiritu, a field full of dead men ; and the prophet
distinguishing visions from realities, and being accustomed
to consider them as signs, God spoke very intelligibly when
he told him that these bones were the house of Israel, that is
to say, they represented the house of Israel.

CHAP. XIV.] GIVEN TO SIGNS. 157

These are certain and sufficient preparations ; and as
we see no other examples in which it is agreed that there
should be given to the sign the name of the thing signified,
we derive this maxim from common sense, — that u-e may
give to signs the name of things only, ichen we have grounds for
supposing that they are already considered as signs, and when
we see that the minds of others are in doubt, not about what
they are, but about what the// represent. But as the greater
part of moral rules have exceptions, it may be doubted
whether we ought not to make one here in favour of u
single case, viz., when the thing signified is such, that it
requires in some sort to be denoted by a sign, so that, as
soon as the name of that thing is pronounced, the mind
conceives immediately that the subject to which it is united
is intended to designate it.

Thus, as covenants are commonly denoted by outward
signs, if we affirm the word covenant, or any outward thing,
the mind will be immediately led to conceive that it is
affirmed of it as of its sign; so that, when AVC iind in
Scripture that circumcision is the covenant, it may be that
there is nothing to surprise where covenant fixes the idea
of sign on that to which it is united. And thus, as he who
hears a proposition conceives the attribute, and qualities of
the attribute, before he unites it Avith the subject, we may
suppose that he who hears this proposition, that circum
cision is the covenant, is sufficiently prepared to conceive
that circumcision is only figuratively the covenant, the
word covenant having led'him to form this idea, not before
it was pronounced, but before it was joined in his mind
with the word circumcision.

I have said, that it might be thought that the things
which require, by a fitness of reasoning, to be denoted by
signs, should form an exception to the established rule,
which demands a preliminary preparation, through which
we might be led to regard the sign as a sign, in order that we
might affirm of it the thing signified, because the contrary
might also be believed. For, 1st, this proposition, circumci
sion is the covenant, is not in the Scripture, Avhich runs simply
thus, Behold the covenant ivhich you, shall observe between you,
your posterity, and me, Every male among you shall be cir-
'cumdsed. Now it is not said in these Avords that circum-

158 PROPOSITIONS — NAMES OF THINGS. [PART II.

cision is the covenant, but circumcision is in them com
manded as a condition of the covenant. It is true that
God required that condition in order that circumcision
might be a sign of the covenant, as it is said in the follow
ing verse, ut sit in signum foederis ; but, in order that it
might be a sign, it was necessary that its observance be
commanded, and made a condition of the covenant, which
is contained in the preceding verse.

2d, These words in St Luke, This cup is the new covenant
of my blood, which, it is alleged, have still less evidence
for confirming this exception, for, when translated literally,
these are St Luke's words, This cup is the new testament in
my blood. Now, as the word testament signifies not only
the last will of the testator, but still more appropriately
the instrument which represents it, there is nothing figura
tive in calling the cup — the blood of Jesus Christ — the
testament, since it is peculiarly the mark, the pledge and
sign, of the last will of Jesus Christ, — the instrument of the
new covenant.

But, be that as it may, this exception being, on the one
hand, doubtful, and on the other, very rare, and there
being few things which require of themselves to be denoted
by signs, these do not hinder the use and application of
the rule in relation to all other things which have not this
quality, and which men are accustomed to represent by
instituted signs. For this principle of equity must be re
membered, that the majority of rules having exceptions,
remain, nevertheless, in all their force in the things which
are not comprised in these exceptions.

It is by these principles that we must decide this im
portant question, whether we are to give to these words,
This is my body, a figurative sense ; or, rather, it is by
these principles that all the world has decided, — all the
nations of the earth having been naturally led to take them
in a literal sense, and to exclude the figurative. For the
apostles, not regarding the bread as a sign, and being in
no difficulty about what it signified, Jesus Christ could not
have given to the signs the names of things without speak
ing contrary to the custom of all men, and without de
ceiving them. They might, perhaps, regard what was
done as something great, but that is not sufficient.

CHAP. XV.] TWO KINDS OF PROPOSITIONS. 159

"VVe have nothing more to remark on the subject of those
signs to which the names of things are given, except that
it is extremely necessary to distinguish between the ex
pressions in Avhich AVG use the name of a thing to denote
the sign, as when AVC call a picture of Alexander by the
name'of Alexander ; and those in which the sign being
denoted by its own name, or by a pronoun, we affirm of it
the thing signified. For this rule— that it is necessary
that the minds of those to whom we speak already consider
the sign as a sign, and are in doubt as to what it signifies
— applies by no means to the first kind of expressions, but
solely to the second, in which we affirm expressly of the
sign the thing signified. For we employ these expressions
only to teach those to whom we speak what the sign signi
fies ; and we do this only when they are sufficiently pre
pared to conceive that the sign is the thing signified, only
figuratively, and by representation.

CHAPTER XV.

OF TWO KINDS OF PROPOSITIONS WHICH ARE OF GREAT USE

IN THE SCIENCES DIVISION AND DEFINITION. AND

FIRSTLY OF DIVISION.

IT is necessary to say something in detail of two proposi
tions which are of great use in the sciences— division and
definition.

Division is the separation of a whole into its parts.

But as there are two kinds of wholes, there are also two
kinds of division. There is a whole composed of parts really
distinct, called, in Latin, Mum, and whose parts are called
integral parts. The division of this whole is called properly
partition : as when we divide a house into its apartments, a
town into its wards, a kingdom or state, into its province*.

160 TWO KINDS OF PROPOSITIONS. [PART II.

man into body and soul, the body into its members. The
sole rule of this division is, to make the enumeration of
particulars very exact, and that there be nothing wanting
to them.

The other whole is called, in Latin, omne, and its parts,
subjected or inferior parts, inasmuch as the whole is a com
mon term, and its parts are the terms comprising its exten
sion. The word animal is a whole of this nature, of which
the inferiors — as man and beast — which are comprehended
under its extension, are subjected parts. This division ob
tains properly the name of division, and there are four kinds
of division which may be noticed.

The first is, when we divide the, genus by its species: every
substance is body or mind; every animal is man or beast. The
second is, when we divide the genus by its differences : every
animal is rational or irrational; every number is even or un
even; every proposition is true or false; every line is straight or
curved.

The third is, when we divide a common subject into the
opposite accidents of which it is susceptible, these being ac
cording to its different inferiors, or in relation to different
times : as, every star is luminous by itself, or by reflection only ;
every body is in motion or at rest ; all the French are nobles
or commoners ; every man is well or ill ; all nations employ,
for the purpose of expressing themselves, either speech alone, or
writing together with speech.

The fourth is that of an accident into its different subjects,
as division of goods into those of mind and body.

The rules of division are — 1st, That it be complete, that is
to say, that the members of the division comprehend the
whole extent of the terms into which it is divided : as, even
and uneven comprehend the whole extent of the term num
ber, there being no number which is not either even or
uneven. There is scarcely anything which leads us to
make so many false reasonings as want of attention to this
rule. What deceives us here is, that there are often terms
which appear so opposed that they seem to allow no medium,
but which, nevertheless, have one. Thus, between ignor
ant and learned, there is a certain medium of knowledge
which removes a man from the rank of the ignorant, but
which, still, does not place him in the rank of the learned ;

CHAP. XV.] DIVISION AND DEFINITION. 1G1

between vicious and virtuous there is a certain state of which
we may say, what Tacitus said of Galba, magis extra vitia
quam cum virtutibus — for there are some people who, having
no gross vices, are not called vicious, and who, doing no
good, cannot be called virtuous, although, before God, not
being virtuous, may be a great vice ; between sick and
well there is the state of the man indisposed, or convales
cent ; between day and night there is twilight ; between
opposite vices there is a mean of virtue, as piety between im
piety and superstition ; and sometimes this mean is twofold,
as between avarice and prodigality there is liberality and a
laudable frugality ; between the timidity which fears every
thing, and the rashness which fears nothing, there is the
bravery which is not frightened at dangers, and the reason
able prudence which leads us to avoid those which it is not
fitting we should be exposed to.

The second rule, which is a consequence of the first, is
that the members of the division be opposed: as, even, uneven,
rational, irrational. But what we have already said in
the First Part, must be here noticed, viz., that it is not
necessary for the diiFerences, which constitute its opposed
members, to be positive, but it is sufficient for one to
be so, and for the other to be the genus alone with the
negation of another difference. It is, indeed, in this very
way that we make the members more certainly opposed.
Thus, the difference between a beast and a man, is only
the absence of reason, which is nothing positive ; the un-
evenness of a number is only the negation of its divisibi
lity into two equal parts. The first number has nothing
which the compound number has not, unity being the
measure of each, and that number which is called first,
differs from the compound one only in this, that it has no
other measure save unity.

Nevertheless, it must be confessed that it is better to
express the opposed differences by positive terms, when
this can be done, inasmuch as this explains better the
nature of the members of the division. This is why the
division of substance into that which thinks, and that which
is extended, is much better than the common one, into that
which is material, and that which is immaterial, or equally
into that which is corporeal, and that which is not corpo-

162 TWO KINDS OP PROPOSITIONS. [PART II.

reed, inasmuch as the words immaterial, or incorporeal,
furnish us with an idea, only very imperfect and confused,
of that which is understood much better by the expression.
substance that thinks.

The third rule, which is a consequent of the second, is
that one of the members be not so contained in the other, that the
other may be affirmed of it, although it may sometimes be
contained in it after another manner, for line is included in
superficies, as a term of superficies, and superficies in solid,
as a term of solid. But this does not prevent extension
from being divided into line, superficies, and solid, because
we cannot say that line is superficies, or that superficies
is solid. We cannot, on the other hand, divide number
into equal, unequal, and square, since every square num
ber being even or uneven, it is already contained in the
first two numbers. Neither ought we to divide opinions
into true, false, and probable, since every probable opinion
is true or false ; but we may first divide them into true
and false, and then divide each into certain and impro
bable.

Ramus and his followers have laboured very hard to
show that no divisions ought to have more than two mem
bers. When this may be done conveniently, it is better ;
but clearness and ease being that which ought first to be
considered in the sciences, we ought not to reject divisions
into three members, and especially when they are more
natural, and when it would require forced subdivisions in
order to reduce them to two members ; for thus, instead of
relieving the mind, which is the principal effect of division,
we should load it with a great number of subdivisions,
which it is much more difficult to retain than if we had
made at once more members in that which we divide.
For example, is it not more short, simple, and natural, to
say, All extension is either line, or superficies, or solid, than
to say with Ramus, Magnitudo est linea, vel lineatum, linea-
tum et superficies, vel solidum ?

Finally, we may remark that it is an equal defect not to
make enough, and to make too many divisions ; the one
does not sufficiently enlighten the mind, the other dissi
pates it too much. Crassotus, who is a philosopher of
worth among the interpreters of Aristotle, has injured his

CHAP. XVI.] DEFINITION OF THINGS. 163

book by too great a number of divisions. We fall thus

into the confusion which we seek to avoid. Confusum est
quidquid in pulvercm sectum cst.

CHAPTER XVI.

OP' THE DEFINITION WHICH IS TERMED THE DEFINITION OF
THINGS.

WE have spoken at considerable length, in the First Part,
of the definition of names, and we have shown that we
must not confound it with the definition of thinys, since the
definitions of names are arbitrary, whereas the definitions
of things do not depend on us, but on what is involved in
the true idea of the thing, and are not to be taken as princi
ples, but considered as propositions, which need after to be
established by reason, and which may be disputed. It is,
then, of this last kind of definition alone, that we speak
here.

Of this there are two kinds, — the one more exact, which
retains the name of definition ; the other less so, which is
termed description.

The more exact, is that which explains the nature of a thing
by its essential attributes, of which those which are common
are called genus, and those which are special, difference.
Thus we define man, a rational animal; mind, a substance
which thinks; body, a substance extended; God, a perfect
being. It is necessary, too, as far as possible, that that
which is placed as genus in the definition, be the proximate
genus of the thing defined, and not simply the remote.

Sometimes, also, we define by integral parts, as when we
say, that man is a thing compounded of mind and bod//. But
even then there is something which holds the place of
genus — the term thing compounded, and the rest takes the
place of difference.

164 DEFINITION OF THINGS. [PAKT II.

The definition less exact, which is termed description, is
that which gives some knowledge of a tiling by the accidents
which are peculiar to it, and which determine it sufficiently
to enable us to discriminate it from others. It is in this
way that we describe herbs, fmits, animals, by their figure,
size, colour, and other such accidents. The descriptions of
poets and orators are of this nature. There are also some
definitions or descriptions of things by their causes, matter,
form, end, &c. ; as if we define a clock, an iron machine,
composed of different wheels, whose regular movement is
intended to mark the hours.

There are three things necessary to a good definition, —
that it be universal, that it be appropriate, and that it be
clear.

1st, It is necessary that a definition be universal, that is
to say, that it comprehend the whole thing defined. Hence
the common definition of time, that it is the measure of
motion, is probably bad, since it is very likely that time
measures rest as well as motion. For we say that a
thing has been so long at rest, as well as that it has been
moving for so long a time ; so that it is clear that time is
nothing more than the continuance of a creature in some
state, whatever that state may be.

2d, It is necessary that a definition be special, that is to
say, that it belong exclusively to the thing defined. Hence
the common definition of the elements, as simple corruptible
bodies, seems bad ; for the celestial bodies, being not less
simple than the elements, by the confession of these philo
sophers themselves, we have no reason to suppose that
the heavens are subject to alterations like those which take
place on earth, without speaking of comets, which we now
know are not formed from the exhalations of the earth, as
Aristotle imagined. There have been discovered spots on
the sun, which have formed and dispersed there in the
same way as our clouds, although they are of much greater
magnitude.

3d, A definition must be clear, that is to say, it must
serve to give us a clearer and more distinct idea of the
thing which we define, and that it enable us, as far as pos
sible, to comprehend its nature, so that it may help us to
give an account of its principal properties, which is what

CHAP. XVI.] DEFINITION OF THINGS. 165

ought principally to be considered in definitions, and what
is neglected in a great number of Aristotle's definitions.
For who is there that ever comprehended the nature of
motion better through this definition : Actus entis inpotentia
quatenus inpotentia, — the act of a being in power as far as
it is in power ? Is not the idea which nature gives us of
it a hundred times more clear than this? and who is there
that has ever learned from it any of the properties of
motion ?

The four celebrated definitions of these first four qualities,
the dry, the moist, the hot, and cold, are no better. The
dry, says he, is that which is easily retained within its
own limits, and with difficulty in those of another body, —
Quod suo termino facile continetur, diflicidter alicno.

And tlie moist, on the contrary, is that which is easily
retained in the boundaries of another body, and with dif
ficulty in its own, — Quod suo termino dijjicidter continetur,
facile cdieno.

But. in the first place, these two definitions belong more
to hard and liquid bodies, than to dry and humid bodies ;
for we say that one air is dry, and that another air is
humid, though it may be always retained within the
bounds of another body, because it is always fluid. And
further, we do not see how Aristotle could say that fire,
that is, flame, is dry, according to this definition, since
it easily accommodates itself to the limits of another body;
whence, also, Virgil calls fire liquid, et liquidi simul ignis ;
and it is vain subtilety to say, with Campanella, that fire,
when confined, aut rumpit aut rumpitur ; for this is not
because of its pretended dryness, but because its own
smoke stifles it if it has no air. Hence it is easily confined
within the limits of another body, provided there be any
opening through which it may discharge that which it
constantly exhales.

Hot, he defines, that which collects like bodies, and separates
unlike, — Quod congregat homogenea, et disgregat heterogenea,
And cold, that which collects unlike bodies, and separates
like, — Quod congregat heterogenea, et disgregat homogenea.
This sometimes belongs to cold and hot, but not always ;
but it does not at all enable us any better to understand
the true cause which leads us to call one body hot, and

166 DEFINITION OF THINGS. [PART II.

another cold. So that the chancellor Bacon had reason to
say that these definitions were like to that which one
might make of a man, in defining him to be an animal that
made shoes, or cultivated vines. The same philosopher de
fines nature, Principium motus et quietis in eo in quo est, —
The principle of motion and of rest in that in which it is ;
which is founded on a fancy that he had, that natural
bodies differed from artificial bodies in this, that natural
bodies had within them the principle of their movement,
and that artificial bodies had it only from without ; where
as it is clear and certain that no body can impart motion
to itself, because matter, being of itself indifferent to motion
or rest, cannot be determined to one or the other except
by a foreign cause. And since we cannot go on to infinity,
it must necessarily be God who has impressed motion on
matter, and who preserves it in it still.

The celebrated definition of the soul appears still more
defective : Actus primus corporis naturalis organici, potentia
vitam habentis, — The first act of a natural organised body
having life in potentia. We do not know what he intends
to define. For, 1st, if it is the soul, so far as it is common
to men and beasts, he is defining a chimera, there being
nothing common to these two things. 2d, He is explain
ing an obscure term by four or five more obscure. And
to refer only to the word life, the idea which we have of
life is not less obscure than that which we have of the
soul, these two terms being equally ambiguous and equi
vocal.

These are some of the rules of division and definition.
But although there is nothing more important in the
sciences than to divide and define well, it is unnecessary
to say more about it here, as it depends much more on a
knowledge of the matter treated of than on the rules of
logic.

CHAP. XVII.] CONVERSION OF PROPOSITIONS. 167

CHAPTER XVII.

OF THE CONVERSION OF PROPOSITIONS, IN WHICH THE
NATURE OF AFFIRMATION AND NEGATION, ON WHICH
THIS CONVERSION DEPENDS, IS MORE THOROUGHLY EX
PLAINED. AND FIRST, TOUCHING THE NATURE OF AFFIR
MATION.

[ The following Chapters are somewhat difficult to comprehend, and
are not necessary in practice. Hence those who do not wish to tire the
mind with things of little practical use, may pass them over. ]

WE have refrained till now from speaking of the conver
sion of propositions, because the foundation of all argu
mentation, of which we are to speak in the following part,
depends on it ; and thus it is better that this matter should
not be far removed from what we have to say of reason
ing, although, to treat well of it, we must reproduce some
part of what we have already said of affirmation and
negation, and explain thoroughly the nature of both.

It is certain that we cannot express a proposition to
others, except by employing two 'ideas, one for the subject,
the other for the attribute, and another word which denotes
the union which our mind conceives between them. That
union cannot be better expressed than by the Avords them
selves which we employ for affirming, when we say that
one thing is another thing.

Hence it is clear that the nature of affirmation is to unite
and identify, if ive may so speak, the subject irith the attri
bute, and this is what is signified by the word is.

And it follows, also, that it is the nature of the affirma
tion to place the attribute in all that is expressed in the
subject, according to the extension which it has in the pro
position : as, when I say, all man is an animal — I mean to
say, and I express, that everything that is man is also ani
mal ; but if I say, simply, some man is just, I do not place
just on all men, but only on some men.

1 G8 CONVERSION OF PROPOSITIONS. [PART II.

But we must also, in like manner, remember here what
we have already said, that in ideas it is necessary to dis
tinguish the COMPREHENSION from the EXTENSION, and that
the comprehension denotes the attributes contained IN an idea
and the extension the subjects (or classes) which contain that
idea. Hence it follows that an idea is always affirmed ac
cording to its comprehension, because, in taking away any one
of its essential attributes, we utterly destroy and annihilate it, so
that it is no longer the same idea ; and consequently, when
it is affirmed, it is always affirmed in relation to everything
which it comprehends within itself. Thus when I say that a
rectangle is a parallelogram, I affirm of rectangle evert/thing
that is comprised in the idea of parallelogram. For if there
were any part of this idea that did not belong to a rect
angle, it would follow that the whole idea did not belong
to it, but only a part of that idea ; and thus the word
parallelogram, which signifies the whole idea, ought to be
denied and not affirmed of the rectangle. We shall see
that this is the principle of all affirmative arguments.

And it follows, on the contrary, that the idea of the attri
bute is not taken according to the whole extension, at least
when its extension is not greater than that of the subject,
for if I say that all dissolute men will be damned, I do not
say that they alone will be damned, but that they will be
among the number of the accursed.

Thus the affirmation, placing the idea of the attribute
in the subject, is properly that which determines the
extension of the attribute in the affirmative proposition,
and the identity which it denotes, considers the attribute
as restricted to an extension equal to that of the subject,
and does not take in all its generality, if that be greater than
the subject, for it is true that all lions are animals, that is
to say, that every lion contains the idea of animal, but it is
not true that they alone are animals.

I said that the attribute is not taken in all its gene
rality, if it is greater than the subject, for being restrained
only by the subject, if the subject is as general as the at
tribute, it is clear that the attribute remains in all its gene
rality, since it will have as much as the subject, and we
suppose that by its nature it can have no more.

Whence we may collect these four indubitable axioms : —

CHAP. XVIII.] CONVERSION OF PROPOSITIONS. 169

AXIOM 1.

The attribute is placed in the subject by the affirmative propo
sition, according to the whole extension which the subject has in
the proposition ; that is to say, if the subject is universal, the
attribute is conceived in the whole extension of the sub
ject, and if the subject is particular, the attribute is con
ceived only in a part of the extension of the subject.
There are examples of this above.

AXIOM 2.

The attribute of an affirmative proposition is affirmed ac
cording to the whole proposition ; that is to say, according to all
its attributes. The proof of this is above.

AXIOM 3.

The attribute of an affirmative proposition is not affirmed
according to its whole extension, if it is in itself greater than
that of the subject. The proof of this lias been already
given.

AXIOM. 4.

The extension of the attribute is restricted by that of the sub
ject, so that it denotes no more than that part of its extension
which agrees with its subject : as, when we say that men are
animals, the word animal signifies no longer all animals,
but simply those animals which are men.

CHAPTER XVIII.

OP THE CONVERSION OF AFFIRMATIVE PROPOSITIONS.

WE call the conversion of a proposition the changing of
the subject into the attribute, and of the attribute into the

i

170 CONVERSION OF PROPOSITIONS. [PART II.

subject, without affecting the truth of the proposition, or
rather, so that it necessarily follows from the conversion
that it is true, supposing that it was so before.

Now, by what we have just said, it will be easily under
stood how this conversion must be effected, for as it is
impossible that one thing can be joined to another, with
out that other thing being also joined to the first, and that
it follows very clearly that if A is joined to B, B is joined
to A, it is clearly impossible that two things can be conceived
as identified, which is the most perfect of all unions, un
less that union be reciprocal, — that is to say, that we be able
mutually to affirm the two united terms, in the manner in
which they are united, wrhich is called conversion.

Thus, as in particular affirmative propositions, e. g.,
when we say some man is just, the subject and the attri
bute are both particular — the subject, man, being particular
by the mark of particularity which is added to it — and the
attribute, just, being so also, inasmuch as its extension being
restricted by that of the subject, signifies only the justice
which is in some man, it is evident that if some man is
identified with some just, some just is also identified with
some man, and that thus we need only change the attribute
into the subject, preserving the same particularity, in order
to convert such propositions.

The same thing cannot be said of universal affirmative
propositions, because in these propositions the subject alone
is universal, that is to say, taken according to its whole
extension. The attribute, on the contrary, being limited
and restrained, and consequently, when we make it the
subject by conversion, it must preserve the same restric
tion, and have added to it a mark which determines it,
that it may not be taken generally. Thus, when I say
that man is an animal, I unite the idea of man with that
of animal, restraining and confining it to men alone.
Therefore, when I wish to look at that union under another
aspect, beginning with animal, and then affirming man, it
is necessary to preserve to this term the same restriction,
and in order that no mistake may be made, add to it some
mark of determination.

So that, since universal affirmative propositions can only
be converted into particular affirmatives, we ought not to

CHAP. XVIII.] CONVERSION OF PROPOSITIONS. 171

conclude that tliey are converted less properly than the
others, whereas they are made up of a general subject and
a restricted attribute, it is clear that when they are con
verted by changing the attribute into the subject, they
ought to have a subject restricted and confined, that is to
say, particular : whence we obtain these two rules.

RULE 1.

The universal affirmative propositions may be converted by
adding a mark of particularity to the attribute when changed
into the subject.

RULE 2.

Particular affirmative propositions are to be converted with
out any additional change, that is to say, by retaining for
the attribute, when changed into the subject, the mark of
particularity which belonged to the first subject. But it is
easily perceived that these two rules may be reduced to
one, which includes them both.

The attribute being restrained by the subject in all affirmative
propositions, if -we wish to change it to the subject, we must pre
serve that restriction and give it a mark of particularity, whether
the first subject were universal or particular.

Nevertheless, it often happens that universal affirmative
propositions may be converted into other universals. But
this happens exclusively, when the attribute is not in itself
of wider extension than the subject, as when we affirm the
difference, or the property of the species, or the definition
of the thing defined ; for, then, the attribute not being re
stricted, may be taken as generally in conversion as the
subject was — all man is rational ; all rational is man.

But these conversions, being true only under particular
circumstances, are not reckoned true conversions, which
ought to be certain and infallible, by the simple transposi
tion of the terms.

172 THE NATURE OF NEGATIVE PROPOSITIONS. [PART II.

CHAPTER XIX.

OF THE NATURE OF NEGATIVE PROPOSITIONS.

THE nature of negative propositions cannot be expressed
more clearly than by saying, that it is the conceiving that
one thing is not another ; but, in order that one thing be not
another, it is not necessary that it should have nothing in
common with it ; it is enough that it has not all which the
other has, as it is enough, in order that a beast be not a
man, that it should not have all that a man has, and it is
not necessary that it should have nothing of what is in
man. Whence we may obtain this axiom : —

AXIOM 5.

The negative proposition does not separate from the subject
all the parts contained in the comprehension of the attribute, but
it separates only the total and complete idea composed of all
these attributes united.

If I say that matter is not a substance that thinks, I should
not, therefore, say that it is not a substance, but I say that
it is not a thinking substance, which is the total and com
plete idea that I deny of matter.

It is quite the reverse with the extension of idea, for the
negative proposition separates from the subject the idea of
the attribute, according to the whole of its extension ; and
the reason of this is clear, for. to be the subject of an idea,
and to be contained in its extension, is nothing else but to
include that idea ; and, consequently, when we say that
one idea does not include another, which is termed deny
ing, we say that it is not one of the subjects of that idea.

Thus, if I say that man is not an insensible being, I mean
to say that he is not among the number of the insensible
beings ; and I, therefore, separate them all from him.
Whence we may obtain this other axiom.

CHAP. XX.] CONVERSION OF NEGATIVE PROPOSITIONS. 173

AXIOM 6.

The attribute of a negative proposition is alwa>/s taken
generally; which may also be expressed more distinctly
thus: All the subjects of the one, idea, which is denied of the
other, are also denied of that other idea ; that is to say, that
an idea is always denied according to its whole extension.
If triangle is denied of square, all that is contained in
triangle will be denied of square. This rule is commonly
expressed in the schools in these terms, which mean the
same thing: If the r/enus is denied, the species also is denied;
for the species is subject to the genus. Man is a subject
of animal, because he is contained in its extension.

Not only do negative propositions separate the attribute
from the subject, according to the whole extension of the
attribute, but they separate also this attribute from the
subject according to the whole extension which the subject
has in the proposition ; that is to say, they separate it uni
versally, if the subject is universal, — and particularly, if
the subject is particular. If I say that no vicious man is
happy, I separate all the happy persons from all the vicious
persons ; and if I say that some doctor is not learned, I
separate learned from some doctor. And hence we may
obtain this axiom :

AXIOM 7.

Every attribute denied of a subject, is denied of even/thing
that is contained in the extension which that subject has in the
proposition.

CHAPTER XX.

OF THE CONVERSION OF NEGATIVE PROPOSITIONS.

SINCE it is impossible totally to separate two things, except
the separation be mutual and reciprocal, it is clear that if

174 CONVERSION OP NEGATIVE PROPOSITIONS. [PART II.

I say, No man is a stone, I can say also that no stone is a
man : for if any stone were a man, that man would be a
stone; and, consequently, it would not be true that no
man was a stone. And thus,

EULE 3.

Negative universal propositions may be converted, by simply
changing the attribute into the subject, and preserving to the
attribute, when it has become the subject, the same universality
ivhich the first subject had; for the attribute, in negative
universal propositions, is always taken universally, since
it is denied according to the whole of its extension, as we
have already shown above.

But for this very reason we cannot convert particular
negative propositions ; — we cannot say, for example, that
some physician is not a man, because we said that some man
is not a physician. This arises, as I said, from the very
nature of the negation which we have just explained,
which is, that in negative propositions the attribute is
always taken universally, and according to the whole of
its extension ; so that, when a particular subject becomes
the attribute, by conversion, in a particular negative pro
position, it becomes universal, and changes its nature
contrary to the rules of true conversion, which ought not
to change the extension or limitation of the terms. Thus,
in this proposition, Some man is not a physician, the term,
man, is taken particularly ; but in this false conversion,
Some physician is not a man, the word man is taken uni
versally. Now, because the quality of physician is sepa
rated from some man in this proposition, Some man is
not a physician, and because the idea of triangle is sepa
rated from that of some figure in the other proposition,
Some figure is not a triangle, — it by no means follows that
there are physicians which are not men, and triangles
which are not figures.

THIRD PART

OF REASONING.

THAT part of which we now have to treat, and which
comprehends the rules of reasoning, is regarded as the
most important in logic, and is almost the only one which
has been treated of with any care. But it may be doubted
whether it is really as useful as it has been supposed to be.
The greater part of the errors of men, as we have already
said elsewhere, arises much more from their reasoning on
false principles, than from their reasoning wrongly on their
principles. It rarely happens that men allow themselves
to be deceived by reasonings which are false, only because
the consequences are ill deduced ; and those who are not
capable of discovering such errors by the light of reason
alone, would not commonly understand the rules which
are given for this purpose, much less the application of
them. Nevertheless, considering these rules simply as
speculative truths, they may always be useful as mental
discipline ; and, further than this, it cannot be denied that
they are of service on some occasions, and in relation to
those persons who, being of a lively and inquiring turn of
mind, allow themselves, at times, for want of attention, to
be deceived by false consequences, which attention to these
rules would probably rectify. Be this as it may, the
following chapters contain what is commonly said on this
subject, and, indeed, somewhat more.

176 THE NATURE OP REASONING. [PART III.

CHAPTER I.

OF THE NATURE OF REASONING, AND OF THE DIFFERENT
KINDS OF IT WHICH MAY BE DISTINGUISHED.

THE necessity of reasoning is founded exclusively on the
narrow limits of the human mind, which, having to judge
of the truth or falsehood of a proposition — which is, in this
connection, termed the question — is not always able to do
this by the consideration of the two ideas which compose
it, of which that which is the subject is also called the minor
term, because the subject is generally less extended than
the attribute ; and that which is the attribute is also called
the major term, for a contrary reason. When, therefore,
the consideration of these two ideas is not sufficient to
enable us to determine whether we should affirm or deny
the one of the other, it is necessary to have recourse
to a third idea, either complex or incomplex (according to
what we have said of complex terms), and this third idea
is called the mean (or middle term).

Now, it would be of no service, for the purpose of effect
ing this comparison of the two ideas through the medium
of this third idea, to compare it with only one of the two
terms. If I wish to know, for example, whether the soul
is spiritual, and not seeing clearly into the question at first,
should choose the idea of thought in order to make it clear
to me, it is manifest that it would be useless to compare
thought with the soul, unless I conceive that it had some
relation to the attribute spiritual, by means of which I
might be able to judge whether it belonged, or did not
belong, to the soul. I may say, indeed, for example, the
soul thinks ; but I shall not be able to conclude that it is
therefore spiritual, unless I conceive some relation to exist
between the terms thinking and spiritual.

It is necessary, therefore, that the middle term be com
pared both with the subject or minor term, and with the
attribute or major term, — whether this be done separately

OHAP. I.J THE NATURE OF REASONING. 177

with each of these terms, as in the syllogisms which are
for this reason called simple; or with both the terms at
once, as in the arguments which are called conjunctive.

But in either way this comparison demands two pro
positions. We shall speak of the conjunctive arguments
in detail ; but in relation to the simple ones this is clear,
since the middle term, being once compared with tin-
attribute of the conclusion (which can only be done bv
affirming or denying), makes the proposition which is
called the major, because this attribute of the conclusion is
called the major term.

And being again compared with the subject of the con
clusion, makes what is called the minor (proposition),
because the subject of the conclusion is called the minor
term.

And then the conclusion, which is the proposition itself
which had to be proved, and which, before it was proved,
was called THE QUESTION.

It is well to know that the two first propositions are
also called premises (premissce), because they are placed (in
the mind at least) before the conclusion, which ought to
be a necessary consequence from them, if the syllogism be
good : that is to say, that, supposing the truth of the pre
mises, the truth of the conclusion necessarily follows.

It is true that the two premises are not always expressed,
because often one alone is sufficient to enable the mind to
conceive them both ; and when we thus express only two
propositions, this sort of reasoning is called enthi/niem^
which is a real syllogism in the mind, since it applies the
proposition which is not expressed, but which is imperfect
in expression, and affords its conclusion only in virtue of
that suppressed proposition.

I said that there were at least three propositions in a
reasoning ; but there may be many more without rendering
it defective on that account, provided always that the rules
be observed. For if, after having consulted a third idea,
in order to know whether an attribute belongs, or does not
belong, to a subject, and after having compared it with one
of the terms, not knowing as yet whether it belongs, or
does not belong, to the second term, — I might choose a
fourth in order to make this clear to me, and ujifth, if that

178 DIVISION OF SYLLOGISMS. [PART in.

is not sufficient, until I arrive at an idea which connects
the attribute of the conclusion with the subject.

If I question, for example, whether avaricious men are
miserable, I may consider, first, that the avaricious are full
of desires and passions ; if this does not aiford ground for
the conclusion, that therefore they are miserable, I may
examine what it is to be full of desires, and I shall find in
this idea that of being without many things which are desired,
and misery in this privation of things which are desired ;
which will enable me to form this reasoning: — Avaricious
men are full of desires ; those who are full of desires leant
many things, since it is impossible for them to satisfy all their
desires ; those who are without that which they desire are miser
able ; therefore avaricious men are miserable.

Such reasonings as these, composed of many proposi
tions, of which the second depends on the first, and so of
the rest, are called sorites, and are those which are most
common in mathematics. But because, when they are
long, the mind has more difficulty in following them, and
the three propositions are better adapted to the capacity of
the mind, we have taken more pains in examining the
rules of good and bad syllogisms, that is to say, of argu
ments of three propositions. This it is well to follow,
since the rules which are given for these may be easily
applied to all the reasonings which are composed of many
propositions, inasmuch as they may all be reduced to
syllogisms, if they are good.

CHAPTER II.

DIVISION OP SYLLOGISMS INTO SIMPLE AND CONJUNCTIVE,
AND OF SIMPLE INTO COMPLEX AND INCOMPLEX.

SYLLOGISMS are simple or conjunctive. The simple, are
those in which the middle term is joined to only one of the,

CHAP. II.] DIVISION OF SYLLOGISMS. 179

terms of the conclu-sion at the same time; the conjunctive, are
those in which it is joined to loth. Thus this argument is
simple : —

Every good prince is loved by his subjects ;
Every pious king is a good prince ;
Therefore every pious king is loved by his subjects ;
because the middle term is joined separately to pious kitty,
which is the subject of the conclusion ; and to be loced by
his subjects, which is its attribute. But the following is
conjunctive, for the opposite reason : —

If an elective state is subject to divisions, it is not of

long duration ;

Now an elective state is subject to divisions ;
Therefore an elective state is not of long duration ;
since elective state, which is the subject, and of long dura
tion, which is the attribute, enter into the major proposi
tion.

As these kinds of syllogisms have separate rules, we
shall treat of them separately.

Simple syllogisms, which are those in which the middle
term is joined separately with each term of the conclusion,
are also of two sorts.

The one, in which each term is joined completely with
the middle, to wit, with the whole attribute in the major,
and with the whole subject in the minor.

The other, in which, the conclusion being complex, that
is to say, composed of complex terms, we take only a part
of the attribute, or a part of the subject, to join with the
middle in one of the propositions, and all the rest, which
forms only a single term, to join with the middle in the-
other proposition.

The divine laic binds us to honour kings;

Louis XIV. is king ;

Therefore the divine law binds us to honour Louis XIV.

We call the first kinds of arguments plain and incom-
plex, and the others involved or complex ; not that all
those in which there are complex propositions are of this
last kind, but because there are none of this last kind in
which there are not complex propositions.

Now, although the rules which are commonly given for
simple syllogisms may hold in all complex syllogisms, by

180 GENERAL RULES OF [PART III.

reversing them, nevertheless, as the strength of the conclu
sion does not depend on that inversion, we shall here ap
ply the rules of simple syllogisms only to the incomplex,
reserving complex syllogisms to be treated of separately.

CHAPTER III.

GENERAL RULES OF SIMPLE INCOMPLEX SYLLOGISMS.

[ This Chapter, and the following ones until the twelfth, are among
the number of those spoken of in the Discourses, containing things
which are subtile, and necessary to the speculative part of logic, but
which are of little practical utility. ]

WE have seen already, in the preceding chapters, that a
simple syllogism ought to have only three terms, two terms
for the conclusion, and a single middle term, each of which
being repeated twice, constitutes three proposi'ions: the
major, into which the middle term and the attribute of the
conclusion (which is called the greater term) enter ; the
minor, into which, also, the middle term and the subject
of the conclusion (which is called the smaller term) enter ;
and the conclusion, of which the lesser term is the subject,
and the greater term the attribute.

But because all sorts of conclusions cannot be obtained
from all sorts of premises, there are general rules which
show that a conclusion cannot be properly obtained in a
syllogism in which they are not observed, and these rules
are founded on the axioms which were established in the
Second Part, touching the nature of propositions affirma
tive and negative, universal and particular. These, such
as they are, we shall only state, having proved them else
where.

1. Particular propositions are contained in general ones

CHAP. III.] SIMPLE IXCOMl'LEX SYLLOGISMS. 181

of the same nature, not the general in the particular, — I in
A, and O in E, and not A in I, or E in 0.

2. The subject of a proposition, taken universally or par
ticularly, is that which renders it universal or particular.

'3. The attribute of an affirmative proposition having
never more extension than the subject, is always considered
as taken particularly, since it is only by accident that it is
sometimes taken generally.

4. The attribute of a negative proposition is always taken
generally.

It is mainly on those axioms that the general rules of
syllogisms are founded, which rules we cannot violate
without falling into false reasonings.

RULE 1.

The middle term cannot be taken twice particularly, but it
ought to be taken, once at, least, universally.

For, before uniting or disuniting the two terms of the
conclusion, it is clear that this cannot be done if it is taken
for two difFerents parts of the same whole, since it may,
perhaps, not be the same part which is united or separated
from these terms. Now, if taken twice particularly, it
may be taken for two different parts of the same whole,
and, consequently, nothing could be concluded, at least
necessarily, which is enough to render an argument vicious,
since we can only call that a good syllogism, as we have
already said, of which the conclusion cannot be false, i\\Q pre
mises being true. Thus, in this argument — some man is holy,
some man is a thief, therefore some thief is holy, the word man
being taken for different parts of mankind, cannot unite
?/m/with holy, since it is not the same man who is holy,
and who is a thief.

We cannot say the same of the subject and attribute of
the conclusion ; for, though they be taken twice particu
larly, they may, nevertheless, unite them together, by
uniting one of these terms to the middle, in the whole ex
tension of the middle term ; for it follows hence, very
clearly, that if this middle is united in some one of its
parts to some part of the other term, that first term, which
we have already stated to le united to all the middle, will

182 GENERAL RULES OF [PART III.

be united also with the term to which some part of the
middle is joined. If there are some Frenchmen in every
house in Paris, and if there are Germans in some houses
in Paris, then there are some houses in which Frenchmen
and Germans are together.

If some rich men are fools,

And all rich men are honoured,

Then are some fools honoured ;

for the rich men who are fools are also honoured, since all
are honoured ; and, consequently, in these rich fools which
are honoured, the qualities of fool and honour are joined
together.

RULE 2.

The terms of the conclusion cannot be taken more universally
in the conclusion than they are in the premises.

Hence, when either term is taken universally in the
conclusion, the reasoning will be false if it is taken parti
cularly in the two first propositions.

The reason is, that we cannot conclude anything from
the particular to the general (according to the first axiom),
for, from the fact that some man is black, we cannot say
that all men are black.

1st COROLLARY.

There must always be in the premises one universal term
more than in the conclusion, for every term which is general
in the conclusion ought to be so also in the premises, and
besides, the middle term must be taken at least once gene
rally.

2d COROLLARY.

When the conclusion is negative, the greater term must
necessarily be taken generally in the major, for it is taken
generally in the negative conclusion (by the fourth axiom),
and, consequently, it must be taken generally in the major
(by the second rule).

CHAP. III.] SIMPLE 1NCOMPLEX SYLLOGISMS. 183

3d COROLLARY.

The major (proposition) of an argument -whose conclusion is
negative, can never be a particular affirmative, for the subject
and attribute of an affirmative proposition are both taken
particularly (by the second and third axioms), and thus
the greater term would be taken only particularly, con
trary to the second corollary.

4th COROLLARY.

The lesser term is always in the conclusion as in the pre
mises, that is to say, that as it can be only particular in
the conclusion, as it is particular in the premises, it may,
on the contrary, be always general in the conclusion when
it is so in the premises ; for the lesser term could not be
general in the minor when it is the subject of it, unless it
be generally united to the middle ; and it cannot be the
attribute, and be taken generally in it, unless the proposi
tion be negative, because the attribute of an affirmative
proposition is always taken particularly. Now, negative
propositions denote that the attribute, taken in its full ex
tension, is separated from the subject.

And, consequently, a proposition in which the lesser
term -iii general denotes ' ' er a union of the middle term
with the whole of the i .ser term, or a separation of the
middle from the whole lesser term.

Now if, through this union of the middle with the lesser
term, we conclude that another idea is joined to this lesser
term, we ought to conclude that it is joined to all the lesser
term, and not to a part alone, for, the middle being joined
to all the lesser term, nothing can be proved by this union
of one -part, which cannot also be proved of the others,
since it is joined to them all.

In the same way, if the separation of the middle term
from the lesser term, prove anything of any part of that
lesser term, it proves the same of all the parts, since it is
equally separated from them all.

5th COROLLARY.
When the minor is a universal negative, if we wish to

184 GENERAL RULES OF [PART III.

obtain a legitimate conclusion, it must always le general.
This is a consequent of the preceding corollary, for the
smaller term must be taken generally in the minor, when
it is a universal negative, whether it be its subject (by the
second axiom), or whether it be the attribute of it (by the
fourth axiom).

RULE 3.

No conclusion can be drawn from two negative propositions.

For two negative propositions separate the subject
from the mean, and the attribute from the same mean.
Now, because two things are separated from the same
thing, it does not follow either that they are, or that they
are not, the same ; for because the Spaniards are not
Turks, and the Turks are not Christians, it does not follow
that the Spaniards are not Christians ; neither does it fol
low that the Chinese are so, though they are not Turks
any more than the Spaniards.

RULE 4.

A negative conclusion cannot le proved by two affirmative
propositions.

For from the fact that the two terms of the conclusion
are united with the third, it cannot be proved that they
are separated from each other.

RULE 5.

The conclusion always follows the weaker part, that is to
say, if two propositions be negative, it ought to be negative,
and if one of them be particular, it ought to be particular.

The proof of this is, that if there be a negative propo
sition the middle term is separated from one of the parts
of the conclusion, and thus it is incapable of uniting them,
which must be done in order to conclude affirmatively.

And if there be one particular proposition, the conclu
sion cannot be general, for if the conclusion is general
affirmative, the subject being universal, it must also be
universal in the minor, and consequently its subject, — the

CHAP. III.] SIMPLE IXCOMPLEX SYLLOGISMS. 185

attribute being never taken universally in affirmative pro
positions. Therefore the middle term joined to this sub
ject, will be particular in the minor, and hence it will be
general in the major, because otherwise it would be taken
twice particularly. It will be, therefore, its subject, and
consequently that major term will be also universal, and
thus there cannot be a particular proposition in an affirma
tive argument whose conclusion is general.

This is still more clear in the case of universal negative
conclusions, for then it would follow that there ought to be
three universal terms in the two premises, according to
the first corollary. Now, as there must be an affirmative
proposition by the third rule, whose attribute is taken par
ticularly, it follows that the other three terms are taken
universally, and, consequently, the two subjects of the two
propositions, which makes them universal, Q, E, D.

Gth COROLLARY.

The particular is inferred from the general. What infers
A infers I, what infers E infers O, but what infers the
particular does not infer the general. This is a consequent
of the preceding rule, and of the first axiom ; but it must
be remarked that men have thought right to consider
the species of syllogism only according to its worthier con
clusion, which is the general, so that we do not reckon as
a particular species of syllogism that which infers only
particularly, when it might have a general conclusion.

Hence there is no syllogism in which the major being
A, and the minor E, the conclusion is O, for (by the 5th
corollary) the conclusion of a negative universal minor
must be always general, so that if we cannot obtain a
general conclusion, it will be because we cannot obtain any
at all. Thus A, E, O, is never a syllogism separately, but
only so far as it may be contained in A, E, E.

RULE G.

From two particular propositions nothing follows.
For if there are two affirmatives, the middle will be
taken twice particularly, whether it be the subject (by the

i »0 FIGURES AND MODES OF SYLLOGISMS. [PART in.

2d axiom) or whether it be the attribute (by the 3d axiom).
Now, by the 1st rule, nothing can be concluded from a
syllogism whose middle term is taken twice particularly.

And if there be a negative, the conclusion being nega
tive also, by the rule preceding, there must be at least two
universal terms in the premises (according to the 2d co
rollary). Therefore there ought to be a universal proposi
tion in these two premises, since it is impossible to arrange
three terms in two terms, where two terms must be taken
universally, without having either two negative attributes,
which would be contrary to the 3d rule, or one of the
subjects universal, which makes the proposition universal.

CHAPTER IV.

OF THE FIGURES AM) MODES OF SYLLOGISMS LV GEKERAL.
THAT THERE CAXXOT BE MORE THAN FOUR FIGURES.

AFTER establishing the general rules which must necessarily
be observed in all simple syllogisms, it remains to show
how many sorts there are of such syllogisms.

We may say in general that there are as many sorts as
there may be different ways of arranging the three propo
sitions of a syllogism, and the three terms of which they
are made up, without violating the rules which we have
laid down.

The arrangement of the three propositions according to
the four differences, A, E, I, O, is called mood, — and the
arrangement of the three terms, that is to say, of the
middle term with the two terms of the conclusion, is called
figure.

Now we may reckon how many moods there are which
afford a conclusion, without taking into account the differ
ent figures in which the same mood may constitute differ
ent syllogisms, for, by the doctrine of combinations, four

CHAP. IV.] FIGURES AXD MODES OF SYLLOGISMS. 187

terms (as A. E, I. 0), being taken three by three, can be
differently arranged only in sixty-four ways. But of these
sixty-four ways, those who will take the trouble to con
sider each apart, will find that there are of them, —

Twenty-eight excluded by the third and sixth rules,—
nothing can be concluded from two negatives, or from two
particulars.

Eighteen by the fifth, — that the conclusion follows the
weaker part.

Six by the fourth, — that we cannot have a negative con
clusion from two affirmatives.

One. I. E, 0, to wit, by the third corollary of the gene
ral rules.

One. A, E. 0. to wit. by the sixth corollary of general
rules.

These make in all fifty-four, and, consequently, only ten
valid moods remain :

fE, A. E.
/ A. A, A. I A, E, E.

1 \ I. I. j E, A. 0.

Four affirmative <* \' ^ j Six negative •< ^ Q, 0

(i. A, L |O!A'O'

I E, gr, o.

But it does not follow from this that there are only ten
sorts of syllogisms, since any one of these moods may be
made into different syllogisms, according to the other way
in which they are diversified, by the different arrangement
of the three 'terms, which we have already said is called
figure.

Now. in order to this disposition of the three terms, the
two first propositions alone are to be considered, since the
conclusion is supposed before we make the syllogism to
prove it : and as the middle can be arranged only, with the
two terms of the conclusion, in four different ways, there
are thus also only four possible figures.

For the middle term is either the subject in the major, a/id
the attribute in the minor, which makes the first figure.

Or it is the attribute in both, which makes the second figure.

Or the subject in both, which makes the third fi'jure.

Or finally, it is the attribute in the major, and subject m the

1 88 FIGURES AND MODES OF SYLLOGISMS. [PART III.

minor, which makes a fourth figure, since it is certain that
we may sometimes have a necessary conclusion in this
form, which is sufficient to constitute a valid syllogism.
Examples of these will be given hereafter.

Nevertheless, since, in this fourth figure, the conclusion is
obtained in a way that is by no means natural, and which
the mind never takes, Aristotle, and those who have fol
lowed him, have not given to this mode of reasoning the
name of figure. Galen maintained the contrary ; but it is
clear that it is only a dispute about words, which ought to
be decided by making each party say what they under
stand by the word figure.

But, without doubt, those are mistaken who apply to the
fourth figure (which they blame Aristotle for not recog
nising) the arguments of the first, of which the major and
minor are transposed, as when we say, All body is divisible ;
all that is divisible is imperfect ; therefore all body is imperfect.
I am surprised that Gassendi has fallen into this error, for
it is ridiculous to take, as a major of a syllogism, the pro
position which stands first, and for the minor that which
stands second. If this were so, it would be often neces
sary to take the conclusion itself as the major, or minor of
a reasoning, since it is often enough placed first or second
of the three propositions which compose it, as in this verse
of Horace, the conclusion is the first, the minor second,
and the major third.

Qui melior servo, qui Kberior sit avarus;

In triviis fixum, cum se diraittit ad assem

Non video : nam qui cupiet, metuet quoque : porro

Qui metuens vivit, liber mihi non erit unquam.

For it is all reducible to this argument :
He who is in continual fear is not free,
Every miser is in continual fear ;
Therefore no miser is free.

We are not, therefore, to consider the simple local ar
rangement of the propositions, which effects no change on
the mind ; but we are to take, as syllogisms of the first
figure, all those in which the middle term is subject, in
the proposition where the greater term (that is to say, the
attribute of the conclusion) is found, and the attribute in
that where the lesser term (that is to say, the subject of

CHAP. V.] RULES, MOODS, ETC., OF THE FIRST FIGURE. 189

the conclusion) is found. And thus it follows, that those
syllogisms only are of the fourth figure, where the middle
term is attribute in the major, and subject in the minor.
And it is in this way that we shall speak of the figures,
without any being able to complain of our so doing, since
we have stated beforehand that we understand, by this
word jiyure, only a different arrangement of the middle
term.

CHAPTER V.

RULES, MOODS, AND PRINCIPLES OF THE FIRST FIGURE.

THE first figure is, then, that in which the middle term is
subject in the major proposition, and attribute in the
minor.

This figure has only two rules.

RULE 1.

The minor must be affirmative ;

For, if it were negative, the major would be affirmative
by the third general rule, and the conclusion negative by
the fifth ; therefore the greater term would be taken uni
versally in the conclusion, since it would be negative, and
particularly in the major ; for it is its attribute in
this figure, and would be affirmative, thus violating the
second rule, which forbids us to conclude from the parti
cular to the general. This reason holds also in the third
figure, where the greater term is also attribute in the
major.

RULE 2.

The major must be universal ;

For, the minor being affirmative, by the preceding rule,

190 RULES, MOODS, AND PRINCIPLES [PART III.

the middle term, which is its attribute, is taken particu
larly ; therefore it must be universal in the major, where
it is subject, which renders this proposition universal ;
otherwise it will be taken twice particularly, contrary to
the first general rule.

DEMONSTRATION.

That the first figure can have only four moods.

We have shown, in the preceding chapter, that there
can be only ten valid moods ; but of these ten moods,
A, E, E, and A, 0, 0, are excluded by the first rule of
this figure, viz., that the minor must be affirmative ; I, A,
I, and O, A, 0, are excluded by the second, which is, the
major must be universal; A, A, I, and E, A, 0, are ex
cluded by the fourth corollary from the general rules, for
the lesser term being the subject in the minor, if it be
universal, the conclusion may be universal also.

And, consequently, there remain only these four moods:

rr, ,. (A, A, A. rp ,. (E, A, E.

Two affirmative •< A T T 1 wo negative •<«' T' n

(A, 1, 1. (^Ui, 1, U.

Which was to be demonstrated.

These four moods, in order that they may be more
easily retained, have been reduced to artificial words, of
which the three syllables denote the three propositions,
and the vowel of each syllable points out of what kind the
proposition ought to be ; so that these words have been of
this great service in the schools, that they denote clearly,
by a single word, a species of syllogism, which otherwise
could not have been explained without much circumlocu
tion:

BAR- Whoever suffers those whom he ought to support to

die of hunger, is a murderer.

BA- All the rich who do not give alms in times of public
necessity, suffer those to die of hunger whom they
ought to support;
RA. Therefore they are homicides.

CHAP. V.] OF THE FIRST FIGURE. 191

CE- No impenitent thief can expect to be saved;
LA- All those who die without making restitution, after
haviny enriched themselves w-ith the wealth of the
church, are impenitent thieves;
REXT. Therefore none such can expect to lie saved.
DA- Everything ivhich is a help to salvation is beneficial.
HI- There are some afflictions which are helps to salva
tion ;

i. Therefore there are some afflictions which are bene
ficial.
FE- Whatever is followed by a just repentance is not to

be wished for ;
RI- There are some pleasures ivhich are followed by a

just repentance ;

o. Therefore there are some pleasures ivhich are not to
be wished for.

BASIS OF THE FIRST FIGURE.

Since in this figure the greater term is affirmed or
denied of the middle, taken universally, and this same
middle is then affirmed in the minor of the lesser term, or
subject of the conclusion, it is clear that it is founded on
two principles, one for the affirmative moods, the other for
the negative moods.

PRINCIPLE OF THE AFFIRMATIVE MOODS.

That which belongs to an idea, taken universally, belongs
also to e eery thing of which that idea is affirmed, or which is
subject of that idea, or which is comprehended under the ex
tension of this idea; for these expressions are synonymous.

Thus the idea of animal belonging to all men, belongs
also to all Ethiopians. This principle has been so clearly
explained in the chapter where we treated of the nature
of affirmative propositions, that it is not necessary to say
more of it here. It is sufficient to state, that it is com
monly expressed in the schools in the following manner :
— Quod, convenit consequenti, convenit antecedents; and that,
by the term consequent, is understood the general idea
which is affirmed of another, and, by antecedent, the sub-

192 RULES, MOODS, AND PRINCIPLES [PART III.

ject by which it is affirmed, since, in reality, the attribute
is obtained, as a consequent from the subject, — if it be man,
it is also animal.

PRINCIPLE OK NEGATIVE MOODS.

Whatever is denied of an idea, taken universally, is denied
also of everything ofivhich that idea is affirmed.

Tree is denied of all animals ; it is, therefore, denied of
all men, since they are animals. It is commonly expressed
in the schools, thus : — Quod negatur de consequent!, negatur
de antecedentL What we have said, in treating of negative
propositions, renders it unnecessary to say more here.

It must be remarked, that it is only in the first figure
that we obtain a conclusion in all the four — A, E, I, O.

And that it is in the first alone that we obtain a con
clusion in the form of A ; the reason of which is, that in
order to make the conclusion a universal affirmative, the
lesser term must be taken generally in the minor, and,
consequently, be its subject, and the middle term its attri
bute ; whence it happens that the middle is there taken
particularly. It must, therefore, be taken generally in the
major by the first general rule, and, consequently, be its
subject. Now the characteristic of the first figure is, that
the middle term be subject in the major proposition, and
attribute in the minor.

CHAPTER VI.

RULES, MOODS, AND PRINCIPLES OF THE SECOND FIGURE.

THE second figure is that in which the middle term is
taken twice as attribute ; whence it follows, that, in order
to its concluding necessarily, it must observe these two
rules, —

CHAP. VI.] OP THE SECOND FIGURE. 193

RULE 1 .

One of the two propositions must be negative, and, conse
quently, the conclusion also, by the sixth general rule ;

For, if both propositions were affirmative, the middle,
which is here always attribute, would be taken twice parti
cularly, contrary to the first general rule.

RULE 2.

The major proposition must be universal ;

For, the conclusion being negative, the greater term, or
attribute, is taken universally. Now, this same term is
subject in the major; therefore it must be universal, and,
consequently, render the major universal.

DEMONSTRATION.

That there can be only four moods in the second figure.

Of the ten valid moods the four affirmative are excluded
by the first rule of this figure, which is, that one of the
premises must be negative.

0, A, O, is excluded by the second rule, which is, that
the major must be universal.

E, A, O, is excluded for the same reason as in the first
figure ; for the lesser term is also subject in the minor.

There remain, therefore, of these ten moods, only these
four : —

Two general, {^' £' ^ Two particular, ffi *> °'

(.-"•} ^i -L<- (J\., U, U.

Which was to be demonstrated.

These four moods have been comprehended under the
following artificial words : —

CE- No liar is to be believed;
SA- Every good man is to be believed ;
RE. Therefore no good man is a liar.
CA- All those who are followers of Jesus Christ crucify

the flesh;
MES- All those who lead an effeminate and voluptuous life

do not crucify the flesh ;
TRES. Therefore none such are followers of Jesus Christ.

194 RULES, MOODS, AND PRINCIPLES [PART III.

FES- No virtue is contrary to the love of truth;

TI- There is a love of peace which is opposed to a love of

truth ;

NO. Therefore there is a love of peace which is not a virtue.

BA- Every virtue is accompanied with discretion.

RO- There is a zeal without discretion ;

CO. Therefore there is a zeal which is not a virtue.

BASIS OF THE SECOND FIGURE.

It would be easy to reduce all these different sorts of
reasonings to a single principle, by a little explanation ;
but it is more beneficial to reduce two of them to one
principle, and two to another, since their dependence on
these two principles, and the connection they have with
them, is more clear and immediate.

1. PRINCIPLES OF THE ARGUMENTS IN Cesare AND
Festino.

The first of these principles is that which serves also as
a basis for the negative arguments of the first figure, to
wit, that which is denied of a universal idea is denied also
of everything of which that idea is affirmed, that is to say,
of all the subjects of that idea ; for it is clear that the
arguments in Cesare and Festino are established on this
principle. In order to show, for example, that no good
man is a liar, I affirmed, to be believed of every good man,
and I denied liar of every man who was to be believed, by
saying that no liar is to be believed. It is true that this
aspect of denying is indirect, since, in place of denying
liar to be believed, I denied to be believed of liar. But, as
universal negative propositions are converted simply by
denying the attribute of a universal subject, we deny that
universal subject of the attribute.

This shows, notwithstanding, that the reasonings in
Cesare are, in some sort, indirect, since that which is
denied of them is only denied indirectly ; but as this does
not prevent the mind from comprehending, easily and
clearly, the force of the argument, they may be considered
as direct, understanding by this term reasonings, clear and
natural.

CHAP. VII.] OF THE THIRD FIGURE. 195

_ This also shows that the two moods, Cesare and Festino,
differ from Celarent and Ferio of the first, only in having their
major reversed. But though we may say that the negative
moods of the first figure are more direct, it often happens,
nevertheless, that these two of the second figure, which
answer to them, are more natural, and that the mind more
readily employs them. For example, in that which we
have given, although the direct order of negation require
us to say, No man is to be believed who is a liar, which
would have made an argument in Celarent, the mind is,
nevertheless, naturally led to say, No liar is to be believed.

PRINCIPLES OF THE ARGUMENTS IN Camcstres AND Banco.

In these two moods the middle term is affirmed of the
attribute of the conclusion, and denied of the subject,
which shows that they are established directly on this
principle : Nothing that is comprehended under the extension
of a universal idea belongs to any of the subjects of which that
idea is denied, the attribute of a negative proposition being
taken in the whole of its extension, as we have proved in the
Second Part.

True Christians are comprehended under the extension
of charitable, since every true Christian is charitable;
charitable is denied of those who are pitiless towards the
poor ; therefore true Christian of those who are without
mercy towards the poor ; — which makes this argument

Every true Christian is charitable;

None who are without pity for the poor are charitable;

Therefore none who are without pity to the poor are
true Christians.

CHAPTER VII.

RULES, MOODS, AND PRINCIPLES OF THE THIRD FIGURE.

IN the third figure the middle term is twice taken as sub
ject, whence it follows : —

196 RULES, MOODS, AND PRINCIPLES [PART VI.

EULE 1.

That the minor proposition must be affirmative;

This we have already proved by the first rule of the
first figure, since in both the attribute of the conclusion is
also the attribute of the major.

EULE 2.

The conclusion must be particular.

For the minor being always affirmative, the lesser term,
which is its attribute, is particular. Therefore, it cannot
be universal in the conclusion, where it is subject, since
this would be to infer the general from the particular,
contrary to the second general rule.

DEMONSTRATION.

That there can be no more than six moods in the third
figure.

Of the ten valid moods, A, E, E, and A, 0, 0, are ex
cluded by the first rule of this figure, which is, that the
minor be not negative.

A, A, A, and E, A, E, are excluded by the second rule,
which is, that the conclusion cannot be general. There
remain, therefore, these six moods :

(A, A, I. (E, A, O.

3 affirmative \ A, 1,1. 3 negative -<E, 1,0.

(I, A, I. (0,A, O.

Which was to be demonstrated.

These six moods have been reduced to the following
artificial words, though in a different order : —

DA- The infinite divisibility of matter is incomprehensible;
RA- The infinite divisibility of matter is most certain;
PTI. There are, therefore, some things most certain which

are incomprehensible.

FE- No man is able to abandon himself;
LA- Every man is an enemy to himself;
PTON. There are, therefore, some enemies which he cannot
abandon.

CHAP. VII.] OP THE THIRD FIGURE. 197

Di- There are some wicked men in the highest state;

SA- All wicked men are miserable ;

MIS. Therefore, there are some miserable who are in the

highest state.

DA- Every servant of God is a king;

TI- Some servants of God are poor ;

si. Therefore some poor are kings.

Bo- There is some anger which is not blameworthy;

CAR- Every kind of anger is a passion ;

DO. Therefore some passions are not blameworthy.

FE- No folly is eloquent;

RI- There is some folly put into figures ;

SON. Therefore there arejigures which are not eloquent.

BASIS OF THE THIRD FIGURE.

The two terms of the conclusion being attributed, in the
premises, to a single term, which serves as the middle, we
may reduce the affirmative moods to this figure to the fol
lowing principle : —

PRINCIPLE OF AFFIRMATIVE MOODS.

When two terms may be affirmed of the same thing, the;/
may also be affirmed taken particularly.

For, being united together in that thing, since they
belong to it, it follows that they are sometimes united to
gether, so that they may be affirmed the one of the other
particularly. But in order that we may be sure that these
terms have been affirmed of the same thing, which is the
middle term, it is necessary that this middle term be taken
once universally at least ; for if it were taken twice par
ticularly, they might be two different parts of a common
term, which would not be the same thing.

PRINCIPLE OF NEGATIVE MOODS.

Wli-en of two terms one ???••.'// be denied, and the other af
firmed, of the same thing, tiny may be denied particularly of
each other.

198 MOODS OF THE FOURTH FIGURE. [PART III,

For it is certain they are not always joined together,
since they are not joined in this thing ; therefore we may
sometimes deny them of each other, that is to say, we may
deny them of each other, taken particularly. But it is
necessary, for the same reason, in order to its being the
same thing, that the middle term be taken universally once
at least.

CHAPTER VIII.

OF THE MOODS OF THE FOURTH FIGURE.

THE fourth figure is that in which the middle term is
attribute in the major, and subject in the minor. But it is so
far from natural, that it is almost useless to give the rules
for it ; they are, however, given below, in order that
nothing may be wanting to the demonstration of all the
simple forms of reasoning.

ElILE 1.

When the major proposition is affirmative, the minor is
always universal.

For the middle term is taken particularly in the affirma
tive major, since it is its attribute. It must, therefore, by
the first general rule, be taken generally in the minor, and
consequently render it universal, since it is its subject.

RULE 2.

When the minor is affirmative, the conclusion is always par
ticular.

For the lesser term is attribute in the minor, and, con
sequently, is there taken particularly when it is affirmative.
Whence it follows (by the second general rule) that it

CHAP. VIII.] MOODS OF THE FOURTH FIGURE. ID!)

must be also particular in the conclusion, which renders it
particular, since it is its subject.

RULE 3.

In the negative moods the major proposition must be general.

For the conclusion being negative, the greater term is
there taken generally. It must, therefore (by the second
general rule), be also taken generally in the premises.
Now it is here, as in the second figure, the subject of the
major, and consequently it must, as in the second figure,
being taken generally, render the major general.

DEMONSTRATION.

That there can be no more thanfice moods in the fourth jifjure.

Of the ten valid moods, A, I, I, and A, O, 0, are ex
cluded by the first rule ; A, A, A, and K, A, E, are ex
cluded by the second ; O, A, O, by the third.

There remain, therefore, only these five : —

2 affirmative { ^' , ' T' 3 negative «JK, A, O.

I J' A' L (E, I, O.

These five moods may be embodied in the following arti
ficial words : —

BAR- All the miracles of nature are common;
DA- Whatever is common does not arrest our attention;
RI. Some things, therefore, which do not arrest our at
tention, are miracles of nature.
CA- All the evils of life are transitory evils;
LEN- No transitory evils are to be feared;
TES. Therefore none of the evils that are to be feared are

evils of this life.

Di- Some fools speak the truth;
BA- Whoever speaks the truth deserves to be imitated;
TIS. Therefore there are some u'ho deserve to be imitated.

ivho are nevertheless fools.
FES- No virtue is a natural quality;
PA- Every natural quality has God for its author;
MO. Therefore there are qualities which hace God jor
their author, which are not virtues.

200 MOODS OF THE FOURTH FIGURE. [PART III.

FRE- No miserable man is content;

si- Some are content who are poor;
SOM. Therefore there are poor people ivho are not unhappy .

It is well to state that these five moods are commonly
expressed in this way, BaraKpton, Celantes, Dabitis, Fa-
pesmo, Frisesomorum. This arose from the fact that Aris
totle never having made a separate figure for these moods,
they were regarded as only indirect moods of the first
figure, since it was maintained that their conclusion was
reversed, and that the attribute was the real subject.
Hence, those who have followed this opinion, have placed
as the first proposition, that which contains the subject of
the conclusion, and as the minor, that which contains the
attribute. Thus they have given nine moods to the first
figure, four direct, and five indirect, which they have in
cluded in these two verses :

Barbara, Celarent, Darii, Ferio, Baralip-fow.
Celantes, Dabitis, Fapesmo, Frisesom-orMwi.

And for the two other figures —

Ccsare, Camestres, Festino, Baroco, Darapti,
Felapton, Disamis, Datisi, Bocardo, Ferison.

But as the conclusion is always supposed, since it is that
which we design to prove, we cannot say properly that it
is ever reversed ; we, therefore, thought it better to take
always, as the major, the proposition into which the attri
bute of the conclusion enters, which obliged us, in order
to put the major first, to reverse these artificial terms, so
that, for the better retaining of them, we may include them
in this verse : —

Barbari, Calentes, Dibatis, Fespamo, Frisesom.

RECAPITULATION

Of the different Sorts of Syllogisms.

From all that we have just said, it may be concluded
that there are nineteen kinds of syllogisms, which may be
divided in different ways.

CHAP. IX.] COMPLEX SYLLOGISMS. 201

( General 5. TT T , ( Affirmative 7.
I. Into •< T-, , . , -, /. II. Into •< AT ,•

( Particular 14. ( Negative 12.

A—I.

III. Into those which £ive conclusions in ^ ^

1 — b.

0—8.

4. According to the different figures, in subdividing
them by moods, which has already been sufficiently done,
in the explanation of each figure.

5. Or, on the contrary, according to the moods, in sub
dividing them by the figures, where we shall still find nine
teen species of syllogisms, since there are three moods, each
of which only concludes in a single figure ; six, each of
which is valid in two figures, and one which is valid in all
the four.

CHAPTER IX.

OF COMPLEX SYLLOGISMS, AND THE WAY IN WHICH THEY
MAY BE REDUCED TO COMMON SYLLOGISMS, AND JUDGE! >
OF BY THE SAME RULES.

IT must be confessed, that if there are some to whom logic
is a help, there are many to whom it is a hindrance ; and
it must be acknowledged, at the same time, that there are
none to whom it is a greater hindrance than to those who
pride themselves most upon it, and who affect, with the
greatest display, that they are good logicians ; for this
very affectation, being the mark of a low and shallow mind,
it comes to pass that they, attaching themselves more to
the exterior of the rules than to good sense, which is
the soul of them, are easily led to reject as bad reason
ing, some which are very good, since they have not suf-

202 COMPLEX SYLLOGISMS. [PAKT III.

ficient penetration to adjust them to the rules, which
serve no other purpose than to deceive them, because they
comprehend them only imperfectly.

In order to avoid this defect, which partakes strongly
of that pedantry which is so unworthy in a noble minded
man, we ought rather to examine the solidity of a reason
ing by the light of nature than by mere forms ; and one of
the means of satisfying ourselves, when we meet with any
difficulty, is to make other reasonings similar to it in dif
ferent matters, and when it appears clearly to us to afford
a good conclusion, by considering only the good sense of
it ; if we find, at the same time, that it contains something
not conformed to the rules, we ought rather to believe that
this is owing to some defect in our explication than to its
being so in reality.

But the reasonings of which it is more difficult to judge
aright, and in which it is more easy to be deceived, are
those which, as we have already said, may be called com
plex, not simply because there were found in them complex
propositions, but because the terms of the conclusion being
complex, were not taken in all their entirety, in each of
the premises, in order to be joined with the middle, but
only a part of one of the terms, as in this example —
The sun is a thing insensible;
The Persians worship the sun;
Therefore the Persians ivorship a thing insensible.

In which we see that the conclusion having its attribute,
worship a thing insensible, only a part of this is placed in the
major, to wit, a thing insensible, and worshipped in the minor.

Now we shall do two things in relation to these syllo
gisms. We shall show, in the first place, how they may
be reduced to the incomplex syllogisms of which we have
hitherto spoken, in order to their being judged by the
same rules.

And we shall show, in the second place, that more gene
ral rules may be given, for judging at once of the validity
or viciousness of these syllogisms, without having recourse
to any reduction.

It is a thing strange enough, that although logic has
occupied a higher position thrxi it deserved, so that it has
been maintained that it was absolutely necessary for

CHAP. IX.] COMPLEX SYLLOGISMS. 203

acquiring the sciences, it has, nevertheless, been treated of
with so little attention, that hardly anything has been said
touching aught that is of real use ; for logicians commonly
content themselves with giving the rules for simple syllo
gisms, and almost all the examples given of them arc com
posed of incomplex propositions, which are so clear that
no one would ever have thought of seriously composing
them in any discourse ; for who has ever heard of any one
making such a syllogism as this : Every man is an animal;
Peter is a man ; therefore Peter is an animal.

But little pains are taken in applying the rules of syllo
gism to arguments of which the propositions are complex,
though this is often very difficult, and there are many
arguments of this nature which appear bad, which are
nevertheless very good ; and besides, the use of such rea
sonings is much more frequent than that of syllogisms
which are quite simple. This will be shown more easily by
examples than by rules.

EXAMPLE 1.

We have said, for example, that all propositions com
posed of active verbs are complex in some manner ; and
of these propositions reasonings are often made, whose
form and force are difficult to recognise ; as this, which we
have already given as an example —

The divine law commands us to honour kinys ;

Louis XIV. is a king ;

Therefore the divine law commands us to honour J^n/ts

XIV.

Some persons of small intelligence have accused such
reasonings of being defective, because, say they, they are
composed of pure affirmatives in the second iigure, which
is an essential defect. But these persons have shown
clearly that they have consulted more the letter and sur
face of the rules, than the light of reason, by which these
rules were discovered ; for this reasoning is so true and
valid, that if it were opposed to the rule, it would prove
that the rule was false, not that the reasoning was bad.
I say that, in the first place, this argument is good ; for in
this proposition, the dicine law commands us to honour kittya,

204 COMPLEX SYLLOGISMS. [PAKT III.

this word, kings, is taken generally for all kings in parti
cular, and consequently Louis XIV. is among those whom
the divine law commands us to honour.

I say, in the second place, that king, which is the middle
term, is not the attribute in this proposition — the divine law
commands us to honour kings— though it may be joined with
the attribute command, which is a very different thing,
for what, which is really the attribute, is affirmed, and
agrees. Now, first, king is not affirmed, and does not
agree with the law of God ; second, the attribute is re
stricted by the subject, Now the word king is not re
stricted in this proposition — the divine law commands us to
honour kings, since it is taken generally.

But if it is demanded, then, what it really is, it is easy
to reply that it is the subject of another proposition in
volved in this ; for when I say that the divine law com
mands us to honour kings, as I attribute command to the
law, I attribute also honour to kings, for it is as if I said,
the divine law commands that kings be honoured.

So also in this conclusion — the divine law commands us
to honour Louis XIV.— Louis XIV. is not the attribute,
although joined to it, and he is, on the contrary, the sub
ject of an involved proposition ; for it is the same as if .
said, the divine law commands that Louis XIV. be honoured.
Thus these propositions are unfolded in the following

way : —

The divine latv commands that kings be honoured;

Louis XIV. is king ;

Therefore the divine law commands that Louis XIV. be

honoured.

It is clear that the whole argument consists in these
propositions : —

Kings ought to be honoured;
Louis XIV. is king ;

Therefore Louis XIV. ought to be honoured.
And that this proposition — the divine law commands—
which appears the principal, is only an incidental proposi
tion, in this argument, joined to the affirmation, which the
divine law helps to prove.

It is clear also that this reasoning is, in Barbara ot the
first figure, the individual terms, as Louis XIV., standing

CHAP. IX.] COMPLEX SYLLOGISMS. 205

for universals, as they are taken in all their extension, as
we have already remarked.

EXAMPLE 2.

For the same reason, this argument, which appears to
be of the second figure, and conformed to the rules of that
figure, is worth nothing : —

We ought to believe the Scripture;

Tradition is not Scripture;

Therefore ice ought not to believe tradition.
For it ought to be reduced to the first figure in this way —

The Scripture ought to be believed;

Tradition is not Scripture;

Therefore tradition ought not to be believed.
Now we are not able to conclude anything from the first
figure, from a negative minor.

EXAMPLE 3.

There are other reasonings, the propositions of which
appear to be pure affirmatives in the second figure, which
are nevertheless very good, as : —

Every good pastor is ready to give his life for his sheep;
Now there are few pastors in the present day t/:Jn> are

ready to give their lives for their sheep;
Therefore there are in the present day few good pastors.
But what makes this reasoning good is, that we conclude
affirmatively only in appearance. For the minor is an
exclusive proposition, which contains in sense this pro
position, — Most of the present pastors are not ready to give
their lives for their sheep. And the conclusion, also, may be
reduced to this negative, — Many of the present pastors are
not good pastors.

EXAMPLE 4.

Here is another argument, which, being of the first
figure, appears to have a negative minor :•—

Those who cannot be robbed of what they love are out of
the reach of their enemies;

206 COMPLEX SYLLOGISMS. [PART III.

Now, when a man loves God alone, he cannot be robbed

of what he loves;
Therefore all those who love God alone, are out of the

reach of their enemies.

What makes this argument quite valid is, that the minor
is negative only in appearance, and is in reality affirmative,
for the subject of the major, which ought to be the attribute
in the minor, is not those who may be robbed of what they
love, but, on the contrary, those who cannot be robbed. Now
this is what we affirm of those who love God alone, so
that the sense of the minor is, Now all those who love God
alone are among the, number of those who cannot be robbed of
what they love, which is clearly an affirmative proposition.

EXAMPLE 5.

This is what happens again, where the major is an ex
clusive proposition, as,

Those only who love God are happy;

Now there are rich men who do not love God ;

Therefore there are rich men who are not happy.
For the particle only makes the first proposition in this
syllogism equal in meaning to these two — the friends of God
are happy, and, all others, who are not the friends of God, are
not happy.

Now, since it is on this second proposition that the
force of the reasoning depends, the minor, which appears
to be negative, becomes affirmative, since the subject of
the major, which ought to be the attribute in the minor,
is not friends of God, but those who are not the friends of
God, so that the whole argument ought to stand thus : —

All those who are not the friends of God are not happy;

Now, there are rich men among the number of those who
are no friends of God;

Therefore there are rich men who are not happy.
But what makes it necessary to express the minor in
this way, and to take away from it the appearance of a
negative proposition, is, that it is the same thing to say
negatively, that a man is not the friend of God, and to
say, affirmatively, that he is no friend of God, that is to say,
that he is among the number of -those who are not the friends
of God.

CHAP. IX.] COMl'I.EX SYLLOGISMS. ^07

EXAMPLE 6.

There are many reasonings such as these, of which all
the propositions appear negative, and which are, neverthe
less, very good, because there is in them one which is
negative only in appearance, and in reality, affirmative, as
we have already shown, and as we may still further see by
this example : —

That which has no parts cannot perish by the dissolution of
its parts;

The soul has no parts ;

Therefore the soul cannotperishby the dissolution of its parts.

There are several who advance such syllogisms to show
that we have no right to maintain that this, not/tiny cart be,
proved by pure neyatives,is true generally, without distinction;
but they have not observed that in sense, the minor of this
and such other syllogisms, is affirmative, since the middle,
which is the subject of the major, is in it the attribute.
Now the subject of the major is not that which has parts,
but that which has not parts, and thus the sense of the
minor is, the sonl is a thing without parts, which is a propo
sition affirmative of a negative attribute.

The same persons sometimes prove, again, that negative
reasonings are sometimes conclusive, by these conclusives :
John is not rational, therefore he is not a man. No animal
sees, therefore no man sees. But they ought to consider that
these examples are only enthymemes, and that no enthy-
meme is conclusive, save in virtue of a proposition under
stood, which, consequently, ought to be in the mind,
though it be not expressed. Now, in both these examples,
the proposition understood is necessarily affirmative. In
the first, this— all man is rational, John is not rational,
therefore John is not a man ; and on the other — every man is
an animal, no animal sees, therefore no man sees. Now, \ve
cannot say that these syllogisms are purely negative, and,
consequently, the enthymemes, which are conclusive only
because they contain these syllogisms complete in the mind
of him who uses them, cannot be brought as examples to
show that there are some purely negative reasonings which
afford valid conclusions.

208 EXCELLENCIES OR DEFECTS OP SYLLOGISMS. [PART III.

CHAPTER X.

A GENERAL PRINCIPLE, BY WHICH, WITHOUT ANY REDUC
TION TO FIGURES AND MODES, WE MAY JUDGE OF THE
EXCELLENCE OR DEFECT OF ANY SYLLOGISM.

WE Lave seen how we may judge whether complex argu
ments are conclusive or vicious, by reducing them to the
form of more common reasonings, in order, then, to judge
of them by the common rules. But as it does not appear
that our minds need this reduction in order to make this
judgment, we were led to think that there must be rules
more general on which these common ones themselves
were founded, by which we might recognise more easily
the excellencies or defects of all kinds of syllogisms, and the
following is what has occurred to us in relation to this
matter. When we wish to prove a proposition, the truth
of which is not evident, it appears that all we have to do
is to find a proposition, better known, which confirms the
other, which, for this reason, may be called the proposition
containing. But since it cannot contain it expressly in the
same terms, because, if it did, it would not differ from the
other, and thus be of no service in making it clearer, it is
necessary there should be yet another proposition which
may show that that which we called containing, does, in
reality, contain what we wish to prove, and this one may
be called applicative.

In affirmative syllogisms, it is often indifferent which of
the two is called containing, since they both in some sort,
contain the conclusion, and each serves to show that the
other contains it.

For example, if I doubt whether a vicious man is un
happy, and reason thus —

Every one who is the slave of his passions is unhappy;

Every vicious man is the slave of his passions ;

Therefore every vicious man is unhappy.

CHAP. X.] EXCELLENCIES OR DEFECTS OF SYLLOGISMS. 209

"Whichever proposition you take, you may say that it
contains the conclusion, and that the other shows it ; for
the major contains it, since slave of Ms passions contains
under it vicious, that is to say, that vicious is contained
under its extension, and is one of its subjects, as the minor
shows ; and the minor contains it also, since slave of his
passions, comprehends in its idea that of unhappy, as the
major shows.

Nevertheless, as the major is almost always the more
general, it is commonly regarded as the proposition con
taining, and the minor as the proposition applicative.

In relation to negative syllogisms, as there is only one
negative proposition, and as the negation is properly con
tained in the negation alone, it appears that we ought al
ways to take the negative proposition as the containing,
and the affirmative as the applicative exclusively, whether
the negative be the major, as in Celarent, Ferio, Cesare,
Festino, or whether it be the minor, as in Camestres and
.Baroco.

For if I prove by this argument that no miser is happy :
Every happy man is content;
No miser is content ;
Therefore no miser is happy ;

it is more natural to say, that the minor, which is nega
tive, contains the conclusion, which is also negative, and
that the major serves the purpose of showing that it con
tains it. For this minor, no miser is content, separating,
totally miser from content, separates from it also happy,
since, according to the major, happy is contained in the
whole extension of content.

It is not difficult to prove that all the rules which we
have given serve only to show that the conclusion is con
tained in one of the first propositions, and that the other
shows this ; and that arguments are vicious only when we
fail to observe this ; that they are always good when it is
observed, for all these rules may be reduced to two princi
ples, which are the foundations of the others : one, that no
term can be more general in the conclusion titan in the premises.
Now this clearly depends on the general principle that the
premises ought to obtain the conclusion, which could not
be, if the same term, being in the premises and in the con-

210 EXCELLENCIES OR DEFECTS OF SYLLOGISMS. [PART III.

elusion, had less extension in the premises than in the con
clusion, for the less general does not contain the more
general, — some man does not contain all men.

The other general rule is, that the middle term ought to be
taken at least once universally, which depends again on this
principle, that the conclusion ought to be contained in the
premises. For, supposing we wished to prove that some
friend of God is poor, and were to employ, for this purpose,
this proposition, some saint is poor, I say that we shall never
be able clearly to see that this proposition contains the
conclusion, except by another proposition in which the
middle proposition, which is saint, is taken universally, for
it is clear that in order that this proposition, some saints
are poor, may contain the conclusion, some friend of God is
poor, it is both necessary and sufficient that the term some
saint, contain the term, some friend of God, since, in relation
to the other, they have it in common. Now, a particular
term is of no determinate extent, and it contains certainly
only that which is involved in its comprehension and idea.

And consequently, in order that the term, some saint,
may contain the term, some friend of God, it is necessary'
that friend of God be contained in the comprehension of
the idea of saint.

Now, all that is contained in the comprehension of an
idea, may be universally affirmed of it : all that is con
tained in the comprehension of the idea of triangle may be
affirmed of every triangle; all that is contained in the idea
man, may be affirmed of every man ; and consequently, in
order that friend of God, may be contained in the idea of
saint, it is necessary that every saint be the friend of God,
whence it follows that this conclusion, some friend of God
is poor, can be contained in this proposition, some saint is
poor (where the middle term, saint, is taken particularly),
only in virtue of a proposition in which it is taken uni
versally, since it must be shown that friend of God is con
tained in the comprehension of the idea saint, which can
only be shown by affirming saint of God. Taken univer
sally, every saint is a friend of God, and consequently none
of the premises will contain the conclusion, when the
middle term is taken particularly in one of the proposi
tions, unless it be taken universally in the other. — Q. E. D.

CHAP. XI.] APPARENTLY INVOLVED SYLLOGISMS. 211

CHAPTER XL

APPLICATION OF THIS GENERAL PRINCIPLE TO MANY SYLLO
GISMS WHICH APPEAR TO BE INVOLVED.

KNOWING, therefore, by what has been already said in the
Second Part, what is meant by the comprehension and
extension of terms, by which we may determine when one
proposition contains, or does not contain another, we may
judge of the excellency or defect of every syllogism with
out considering whether it is simple or compound, complex
or incomplex, without paying any attention to figures or
moods, exclusively by this general principle, That one of
the tico propositions must contain the conclusion, and the
other s/iow that it contains it. This will be better compre
hended by some examples.

EXAMPLE 1.

I am in doubt whether this reasoning be good, —

The duty of a Christian is not to praise those who commit,

criminal actions;

Nowthosewhoengagein a duel commit a criminal action;
Therefore it is the duty of a Christian not to praise those

who engage in duels.

Now, I need not trouble myself as to the figure or mood
to which this may be reduced. It is sufficient for me to
consider whether the conclusion is contained in one of the
two first propositions, and if the other shows it, and I find
at once that the first having nothing different from the
conclusion, except that in the one, those who commit cri
minal actions, and in the other, those who engage in duels,
that in which there is commit criminal actions, will contain
that in which there is engage in a dud, provided that com
mitting criminal actions contains engaging in duels.

Now it is clear by the sense that the term those who
commit criminal actions, is taken universally, and that it

212 APPARENTLY INVOLVED SYLLOGISMS. [PART III.

extends to all those who commit any such actions what
ever ; and thus the minor, those who engage in a duel com
mit a criminal action, showing that to engage in a dud is
contained under this term, commit criminal actions, shows
also that the first proposition contains the conclusion.

EXAMPLE 2.

I doubt whether this reasoning be good, —
The gospel promises salvation to Christians;
Some wicked men are Christians;
Therefore the gospel promises salvation to wicked men.
In order to determine this, I need only consider that the
major cannot contain the conclusion unless the word
Christians be taken generally for all Christians, and not for
some Christians only. For if the gospel promises salva
tion only to some Christians, it does not follow that it
promises it to wicked men, who may be Christians, since
these wicked men may not be among the number of those
Christians to whom the gospel promises salvation. Hence
this reasoning is sufficiently conclusive (but the major is
false), if the word Christians be taken in the major for all
Christians, and it is not conclusive if it be taken for some
Christians only, for then the first proposition will not
contain the conclusion.

But in order to determine whether it was taken univer
sally, we must judge it by another rule, which is given in
the Second Part, viz., Except in relation to facts, that of which
we affirm is taken universally when it is expressed indefinitely.
Now, although those who commit criminal actions, in the
first example, and Christians, in the second, form part of
an attribute, they nevertheless take the place of subject in
relation to another part of the same attribute. For it is
of them that we affirm, in the one case, that we ought not
to praise them, and in the other, that salvation is promised
to them. And, consequently, not being restricted, they
ought to be taken universally, and thus both arguments
are3 good in form ; but the major of the second is false,
unless we understand by the word Christian, those who
live conformably to the gospel, in which case the minor
will be false, since there are no wicked men who live
conformably to the gospel.

CHAP XI.] APPLICATION OF GENERAL PRINCIPLE. 213

EXAMPLE 3.

It is easy to see, by the same principle, that this reason
ing is worth nothing, —

The divine law commands us to obey secular magistrates ;

Bishops are not secular magistrates;

Therefore the divine law does not command us to obey

bishops.

For neither of the first propositions is contained in the
conclusion, since it does not follow that because the divine
law does not command one thing it has not commanded
another ; and thus the minor shows well enough that
bishops are not comprised under the term secular magistrates,
and that the commandment to honour secular magistrates
does not include bishops. But the major does not say
that God has made no other commandments besides this,
as it ought to do in order to guarantee the conclusion in
virtue of this minor. This is the case in the following
argument, and renders it valid : —

o '

EXAMPLE 4.

Christianity obliges servants to obey their masters in those
things only ivhich are not contrary to the law of God;

Nou; unlawful traffic is contrary to the law of God;

Therefore Christianity does not oblige servants to obey

their masters in an unlawful business.

For the major contains the conclusion, since the minor,
unlawful traffic, is comprised in the number of things which
are contrary to the law of God, and the major being ex
clusive, it is as though we said, The divine law does not
oblige servants to obey their masters in anything that is con
trary to the law of God.

EXAMPLE 5.

We may, by this same principle, easily refute the fol
lowing common sophism : —

He who says that you are an animal speaks truly;

He who says that you are a goose, says that you are an

animal;
Therefore he who says that you are a goose speaks truly.

214 APPARENTLY INVOLVED SYLLOGISMS, ETC. [PART III.

For it is enough to say that neither of the two first pro
positions contain the conclusion ; for if the major contained
it (differing from the conclusion only in this, that there is
animal in the major, and goose in the conclusion), animal
must contain goose; but animal is taken particularly in this
major, since it is the attribute of this affirmative incidental
proposition, you are an animal, and consequently, it could
contain goose only in its comprehension : to show which,
the word animal must be taken universally in the minor
by affirming goose of every animal, which cannot be done,
and is not either, since animal is again taken particularly
in the minor, being there, as well as in the major, the
attribute of this incidental proposition, you are an animal.

EXAMPLE 6.

By this, too, we may refute that ancient sophism re
ferred to by St Augustine : —

You are not what I am;

I am a man;

Therefore you are not a man.

This argument is unsound by the rules of the figures —
since it is of the first, — and the first proposition, which is
its minor, is negative. But is enough to say that the con
clusion is not contained in the first of these propositions,
and the other proposition, / am a man, does not show that
it is contained in it. For the conclusion being negative,
the term man is there taken universally, and thus is not
contained in the term what I am, since he who speaks is
not every man, but only some man, as appears from his
saying, in the applicative proposition, / am a man, in
which the term man is restricted to a partial signification,
since it is the attribute of an affirmative proposition ; now
the general is not contained in the particular.

;HAP. xii.] CONJUNCTIVE SYLLOGISMS. 215

CHAPTER XII.

OF CONJUNCTIVE SYLLOGISMS.

ALL syllogisms arc not conjunctive whose propositions are
conjunctive or compound, but those only whose major is
so compounded that it contains the whole of the conclu
sion. These may be reduced to three kinds — conditional,
disjunctive^ and copulative.

OF CONDITIONAL SYLLOGISMS.

Conditional syllogisms are those in which the major is
a conditional proposition which contains all the conclu
sion : as, —

If there is a God, he ought to be loved;
Now there is a God ;
Therefore he ought to be loved.

The major has two parts : first, the antecedent, if there be
a God; second, the consequent, he ought to be loved.

This syllogism may be of two kinds, since from the
same major we may form two conclusions.

The first is, when, having affirmed the consequent in
the major, we affirm the antecedent in the minor, according
to this rule — In positing the antecedent, tee posit the conse
quent : —

If matter cannot move of itself , its first motion must have

been gicen to it by God;
Now matter cannot move of itself ;
Its first movement must therefore have been given to if

by God.

The second kind is, when we take away the consequent,
in order to take away the antecedent, according to this
rule — In taking away the consequent, we take away the ante
cedent : —

If any of the elect perish, God is deceived;
But God is not deceived;
Therefore none of the elect perish.

216 CONJUNCTIVE SYLLOGISMS. [PART III.

This is the reasoning of St Augustine : Horum si quisquam
perit, fallitur Deus ; sed nemo eorum perit, quia nonfallitur
Deus.

Conditional arguments are vicious in two ways.

The one is, when the major is an irrational condition,
of which the consequent is contrary to the rules : as if I
conclude the general from the particular in saying, If we
deceive ourselves in anything, we deceive ourselves in all
things.

But this falsehood in the major of these syllogisms re
gards rather the matter than the form ; thus we consider
them as vicious in relation to the form, when the conclu
sion is wrongly deduced from the major, whether it be
true or false, reasonable or unreasonable ; which is done
in two ways :

First, when we infer the antecedent from the consequent:
as if we say —

If the Chinese are Mohammedans, they are infidels;

Now they are infidels;

Therefore they are Mohammedans.

The second kind of conditional arguments which are
false, is when, from the negation of the antecedent, we
infer the negation of the consequent : as in the same
example, —

If the Chinese are Mohammedans, they are infidels;
They are not Mohammedans;
Therefore they are not infidels.

There are, however, some of these conditional argu
ments which appear to have this defect, which are, never
theless very good, because there is an exclusion under
stood in the major, though not expressed. Example :
Cicero having published a law against those who bought
suffrages, and Murimus being accused of buying them,
Cicero pleaded for him, justifying himself from the reproach
which Cato brought against him, of acting in this defence
contrary to his own law, by this argument : Etenim si lar-
gitionem factam esse confiterer, idque recte factum esse de-
fenderem, facerem improbe, etiam si alius legem tulisset ;
cum vero nihil commissum contra legem esse defendam, quid
est quod meam defensionam latio legis impediat ? This
argument would seem to resemble that of a blasphemer,

CHAP. XII.] CONJUNCTIVE SYLLOGISMS. 217

who should say in self-defence, If I denied there was a God,
I should be a wicked man; lut although I blaspheme, I do
not deny there is a God; therefore I am not a wicked sinner.
This argument proves nothing, because there are other
crimes besides atheism, which render a man wicked ; but
that which makes Cicero's good, although Ilamus has given
it as an example of a bad reasoning, is, that it contains in
sense a particle exclusive, and may be reduced to these
terms : —

I could only be reasonably reproached with acting contrary
to my law, if I maintained that Murinus bought the
voles, and nevertheless justified his action ; but I main
tain that he did not buy the votes — consequently I do
nothing opposed to my laic.

The same may be said of this reasoning of Venus, in
speaking to Jupiter in Virgil : —

Si sine pace tua, atque invito numine Troes

Italian) petiere. luatit peccata, rieque illos

Juveris auxilio : sin tot responsa secuti,

Qua; super! manesque dabant : cur uunc tua quisquam

Flectere jussa pote.st, aut cur nova coudere fata.

For this reasoning may be reduced to these terms : —
If the Trojans have come into Italy contrary to the will

of the gods, they are punishable ;

But they have not come contrary to the will of the gods ;
Therefore they are not punishable.

It is therefore necessary to supply something, otherwise
it will resemble the following, which certainly is not con
clusive : —

If Judas entered into the apostlcship without being called,

he ought to have been rejected by God ;
But he did not enter without being called ;
Therefore he ought not to be rejected by God.
But that which preserves the reasoning of Venus, in
Virgil, from being vicious, is that we must consider the
major as exclusive in meaning, as though it had been —
The Trojans then alone would have been punishable, and
unworthy the help of the gods, if they had come into
Italy contrary to their will;
Therefore, &c.
Or we may say, which is the same thing, that the

i.

218 DISJUNCTIVE SYLLOGISMS. [PART HI.

affirmative, si sine pace tua, &c., involved in it this nega
tive : —

If the Trojans came into Italy only by the will of the
gods, it is not just to reject them ;

Now they did come by order of the gods alone ;

Therefore, &c.

OF DISJUNCTIVE SYLLOGISMS.

Those syllogisms are called disjunctive of which the first
proposition is disjunctive, that is to say, whose parts are
joined together by rel, or, as the following of Cicero : —
Those who have slain Ccesar are paricides, or defenders

of liberty ;

Now they are not paricides ;
Therefore they are defenders of liberty.
There are two kinds of these, — the first when we take
away one part in order to preserve the other, as in that
which we have given, or the following : —

All wicked men must be punished, either in this world or

in another ;
Now there are some wicked men who are not punished in

this world ;

Therefore they will be in another.

There are sometimes three members in this sort of syl
logism, and then we take away two in order to keep one,
as in this argument of St Augustine, in his Book on Lying
(chap. 8) : Autnonest credendum bonis, aut credendum est eis
quos credimus debere aliquando mentiri, aut non est credendum
bonis aliquando mentiri. Horum primum pernicioswm est; se-
cundum stultum ; restat ergo, ut nnnquam mentianiur boui.

The second, but less natural kind, is when we take
one of the parts, in order to take away the other, as if we
say : —

Saint Bernard, affirming that God had confirmed, by
miracles, his preaching the crusade, was either a saint
or an impostor;
Now, he was a saint;
Therefore he was not an impostor.

These disjunctive syllogisms are rarely false, except
through the falsity of a major, through which the division

CHAP. XII.] COPULATIVE SYLLOGISMS. 219

is not exact, leaving a mean between the opposed mem
bers : as if I were to say —

We must either obey princes when they command those
things icldch are contrary to the law of God, or rise
against them ;
Now, we must not obey them it-hen they command things

contrary to t/ie law of God ;
Therefore we must rise against them.
Or, Noiv we must not rise up against them ;
Therefore we must obey them in that which is contrary

to the law of God.

Both reasonings are false, because there is a mean in
this disjunction, which was observed by the first Christians,
who patiently suffered all things rather than do anything
contrary to the law of God, without, however, rising in
revolt against princes.

These false disjunctions are one of the most common
sources of false reasonings among men.

OF COPULATIVE SYLLOGISMS.

These syllogisms are of one sort only, which is, when
we take a copulative proposition, which denies, and then
establish one part, in order to take away the other.

A man cannot be, at the same time, a servant of God

and a worshipper of 'money ;
Now a miser is a worshipper of money ;
Therefore lie is not a servant of God.

But such a syllogism does not conclude necessarily when
we take away one part in order to posit the other, as may
be seen by the following reasoning derived from the same
propositions : —

A man cannot be, at the same time, a servant of God

and a worshipper of money ;
Now, prodigals are not worshippers of money ;
Therefore they are servants of God.

220 SYLLOGISMS OF CONDITIONAL CONCLUSION. [PART III.

CHAPTER XIII.

OF SYLLOGISMS WHOSE CONCLUSION IS CONDITIONAL.

WE have seen that a proper syllogism cannot have less
than three propositions. But this is true only when we
obtain a conclusion absolutely, and not when we obtain it
conditionally, because then the conditional proposition
alone may contain one of the premises, besides the conclu
sion, and even both.

EXAMPLE. — If I wish to prove that the moon is an un
even body, and not polished like a mirror, as Aristotle
believed, I cannot conclude this absolutely, except in three
propositions : —

Every body which reflects the light from all its parts is

uneven ;

Now the moon reflects the light from all its parts ;
Therefore the moon is an uneven body.
But I need only two propositions, in order to conclude
conditionally in this way :

Every body which reflects light from all its parts is uneven;
Therefore, if the moon reflects the light from all its parts,

it is an uneven body.

And I may even include this reasoning in a single pro
position, thus : —

If every body which reflects light from all its parts
is uneven, and the moon reflects light from all its
parts, it must be confessed that it is not a polished
body, but uneven.

Or, equally in connecting one of the propositions by the
causal particle because, or since — If every true friend ought
to be ready to give his life for his friend — there are few true
friends, since there are few who are friends to this extent.

This way of reasoning is very common and very good,
and hence we are not to imagine there is no reasoning,
except when we see three propositions separated and ar-

CHAP. XIII.] SYLLOGISMS OF CONDITIONAL CONCLUSION. 221

ranged as in the schools, for it is certain that single pro
position comprehends this entire syllogism —

Every true friend ought to be ready to give his life for his

friend ;
Note there are few people who are ready to gice their

lives for their friends ;
Therefore there are few true friends.

All the difference between these absolute syllogisms,
and those in which the conclusion is contained with one of
the premises in a conditional proposition, is that the first
cannot be conceded entirely, except we agree to that of
which it endeavours to persuade us, whereas, in the last,
we may concede everything, without the proposer having
gained anything thereby, since it remains with him to
prove that the condition on which the consequence which
was conceded to him rests, is true.

And thus these reasonings are, properly, only prepara
tory to an absolute conclusion, but they are, nevertheless,
very suitable for this purpose ; and are, it must also be con
fessed, very common and natural, while they have this
advantage, that being further removed from the manner ot
the schools, they are, on this account, better received in
the world.

We may obtain a conclusion, in this way, in all the
figures, and through all the moods ; and thus there are no
other rules to be observed but the rules of the figures
themselves. It is only necessary to remark, that the con
ditional conclusion always comprehends one of the premises
besides the conclusion. This is sometimes the major and
sometimes the minor. This will appear from the examples
of many conditional propositions, which may be obtained
from two general maxims, the one affirmative, and the
other negative, whether the affirmation be already proved,
or conceded without proof.

Every feeling of pain is a thought. From this we may
conclude

AFFIRMATIVELY,

1. Therefore, if all brutes feel pain,
All brutes think. — Barbara.

222 SYLLOGISMS OF CONDITIONAL CONCLUSION. [PART III.

2. Therefore, if some plant feels pain,

Some plant thinks. — Darii.

3. Therefore, if all thought is an action of the mind,

All feeling of pain is an action of the mind. —
Barbara.

4. Therefore, if all feeling of pain is an evil,

Some thought is an evil. — Darapti.

5. Therefore, if the feeling of pain is in the hand which is

burnt,
There is some thought in the hand which is burnt — Disarms.

NEGATIVELY,

6. Therefore, if there is no thought in the body,

No feeling of pain is in the body. — Celarent.

7. Therefore, if no beast thinks,

No beast feels pain. — Camestres.

8. Therefore, if some part of man does not think,

Some part of man does not feel pain. — Baroco.

9. Therefore, if no movement of matter is a thought,

No feeling of pain is a movement of matter. — Cesare,

10. Therefore, if the feeling of pain is not agreeable,

Some thought is not agreeable. — Felapton.

11. Therefore, if some feeling of pain is not voluntary,

Some thought is not voluntary. — Bocardo.

We may still obtain some other conditional conclusions
from this general maxim, Every feeling of pain is a thought;
but as these are not very natural, they are not worth enu
merating.

Of those which we have given, there are some which
comprise the minor in addition to the conclusion, — to wit,
1st, 2d, 7th, 8th ; and others, the major,— to wit, the 3d,
4th, 5th, 6th, 9th, 10th, and llth.

We may, in the same way, notice the different condi
tional conclusions which may be derived from a general
negative proposition, such, for example, as No matter thinks.

1. Therefore, if all the souls of the brutes are matter,

No soul of a brute thinks. — Celarent.

2. Therefore, if some part of man is matter,

Some part of man does not think. — Ferio.

CHAP. XIII.] SYLLOGISMS OF CONDITIONAL CONCLUSION. 223

3. Therefore, if our soul thinks,

Our soul is not matter. — Cesare.

4. Therefore, 'if some part of man thinks,

Some part of man is not matter. — Festino.

5. Therefore, if ever >j thing that feels pain thinks,

No matter feels pain. — Camestres.

6. Therefore, if all matter is a substance,

Some substance does not think. — Felapton.

7. Therefore, if some matter is the cause of many e/ects

which appear very marvellous,
Everything which is the cause of marvellous effects
does not think. — Ferison.

Of these conditionals there are only five which contain
the major in addition to the conclusion ; all the others
contain the minor.

The greatest use of these kinds of reasoning is to com
pel him with whom we are discussing to recognise, in the
first place, the validity of a consequence which he may
allow, .without pledging himself to anything further, be
cause it is proposed to him only conditionally, and sepa
rated from the true matter, so to speak, which it contains.
And hence, he is disposed to receive more easily the abso
lute conclusion which is derived from it, either by positing
the antecedent, in order to posit the consequent, or by
taking away the consequent, in order to take away the
antecedent.

Thus, a man having granted me that No matter 1hmks,
I may conclude from it, Therefore, if the soul of brutes thinks,
it must be distinct from matter. And as he cannot_deny
me this conditional conclusion, I may obtain from it one
or other of these two absolute consequences :—
Now the soul oflrtif.es thinks ;
Therefore it is distinct from matter.
Or equally well on the contrary—

Now the soul of brutes is not distinct from matter;
Therefore it does not think.

Hence we see that four propositions are necessary, in
order to make these kinds of reasonings complete, and
to make them establish anything absolutely. We must
not, however, place them in the rank of syllogisms which

224 ENTHYMEMES — ENTHYMEMATIC SENTENCES. [PART III.

are called compound, because these four propositions con
tain nothing more in sense than these three propositions of
a common syllogism : —

No matter thinks;

Every soul of a brute is matter;

Therefore no soul of a brute thinks.

CHAPTER XIV.

OF ENTHYMEMES AND OF ENTHYMEMATIC SENTENCES.

WE have already said that an enthymeme is a syllogism
perfect in the mind, but imperfect in the expression, since
some one of the propositions is suppressed as too clear and
too well known, and as being easily supplied by the mind
of those to whom we speak. This way of reasoning is so
common in conversation and in writing, that it is rare, on
the contrary, to express all the propositions, since there is,
commonly, one of them clear enough to be understood, and
since the nature of the human mind is rather to prefer that
something be left it to supply, than to have it thought that
it needs to be taught everything.

Thus this suppression flatters the vanity of those to whom
we speak, in leaving something to their intelligence, and,
by abbreviating conversation, renders it more lively and
effective. It is certain, for example, that if, of this verse
from the Medea of Ovid, which contains a very elegant
enthymeme : —

Servare potui perdere an possim rogas.

I am able to save, therefore, I am able to destroy thee, we
were to make a formal argument in this way : —

He who is able to save is able to destroy ;

Now, I am able to save thee ;

Therefore, I am able to destroy thee.

CHAP. XIV.] ENTHYMEMES— ENTHYMEMATIC SENTENCES. 225

All the grace would be taken away from it ; the reason of
this is, that as one of the principal beauties of discourse is
to be full of meaning, and to furnish occasion to the mind
of forming a thought more extensive than what is expressed,
so it is, on the contrary, one of its greatest defects, to be
void of sense, and to contain few thoughts, which is almost
inevitable in philosophic syllogisms ; for, the mind going
faster than the words, and one of the propositions being
sufficient to enable it to conceive two, the expression of
the second becomes useless, containing, as it does, no new
sense. This is what renders these kind of arguments so
rare in ordinary life, since, without reflection even, we lay
aside that which wearies us, and confine ourselves to that
which is actually necessary to make our meaning under
stood.

Enthymemes are, therefore, the ordinary way in which
men express their reasonings, by suppressing the proposi
tion which they judge will be readily supplied ; and this
proposition is sometimes the major, sometimes the minor,
and often the conclusion, although, in this last case, it is
not properly called enthymenie, the whole argument being,
in some sort, contained in the two first propositions.

It happens, also, sometimes, that we include the two
propositions of an enthymenie in a single proposition,
which Aristotle calls, for this reason, an enthymematic
sentence, and of which he furnishes the following ex
ample : —

\\.6dvarov, op-yrjv pr) (piiXarre 6i>r)Tos (av, —

Mortal, cherish not immortal hatred.

The entire argument would be —

7/e who is mortal ought not to cherish an immortal hatred ;
Noiv, you are mortal;
Therefore, &c.
And the perfect enthymenie would be —

You are mortal, let not your hatred, therefore, be immor
tal.

226 SYLLOGISMS COMPOSED OF [PART III.

CHAPTER XV.

OF SYLLOGISMS COMPOSED OF MORE THAN THREE
PROPOSITIONS.

WE have already said that syllogisms composed of more
than three propositions are generally called Sorites. Of
these we may distinguish three kinds : —

1. Gradation, of which it is not necessary to say more
than what has been said in the First Chapter of this Third
Part.

2. Dilemma, of which we shall treat in the following
Chapter.

3. That which the Greeks have called Epichirema (CTTI-
Xeiprjfj,a), which comprises the proof, either of one of the
two first propositions, or both ; and of this we shall speak
in this Chapter.

As we are often obliged to suppress certain propositions
as too evident, it is often, also, necessary when we advance
doubtful ones, to connect, at the same time, the proofs with
them, in order to restrain the impatience of those to whom
we speak, who are often indignant when we attempt to
persuade them by reasons which appear to them false or
doubtful ; for, although there be a remedy in the end, it is,
nevertheless, dangerous to produce, even for a short time,
that disgust in their minds ; and, then, it is much better
that these proofs should follow the doubtful propositions im
mediately, than that they should be separated from them.
That separation produces another inconvenience very
troublesome, which is, that we are obliged to repeat the
proposition which we wish to prove. Hence, instead of
the method of the schools — which is, to propose the whole
argument, and then to prove the proposition which may
present a difficulty — that which is followed in ordinary dis
course is, to join to the doubtful proposition the proofs
which establish them, which makes a kind of argument com
posed of many propositions ; for to the major are joined the

CHAP. XV.] MORE THAN THREE PROPOSITIONS. 227

proofs of the major, to the minor the proofs of the minor,
and then the conclusion is drawn.

We may thus reduce the whole oration for Milo to a
compound argument, of which the major is — that it is
lawful to slay one who lies in wait for us. The proofs of
this major are derived from the law of nature, the laws of
nations, and from examples. The minor is — that Clodius
had lain in wait for Milo ; and the proofs of the minor are,
the equipage of Clodius, his train, &c. The conclusion
iSj — that therefore, it was lawful for Milo to slay him.

Original sin might be proved by the miseries of children,
according to the dialectic method, in this way : —

Children can only be miserable as the penalty of some
sin which they derive from their birth; now they are
miserable ; therefore, the cause of this is original sin. Then
it would be necessary to prove the major and the minor ;
the major by this disjunctive argument — the misery of
children can only spring from one of the four following
causes : — 1st, Sins committed previously in another life ;
2d, The weakness of God, who has not the power to pre
serve them from it ; 3d, The injustice of God, who inflicts
it upon them without cause ; 4th, Original sin. Now, it
is impious to say that it springs from the three first causes ;
the fourth, therefore, alone remains, which is original sin.
The minor, that children are miserable, is proved by enu
merating their miseries.

But it is easy to see with how much more of beauty and
of power St Augustine has set forth this proof, by compre
hending it in a compound argument, in the following man
ner : — " Consider the number and the greatness of the
evils under which children labour, and how the first years
of their life are full of vanity, of afflictions, of illusions,
of fears ; then, when they grow up, and when they
begin even to serve God, error tempts, in order to seduce
them ; labour and pain to weaken them ; lust to inilame
them ; sorrow to cast them down ; pride to lift them up ;
and who can represent, in a few words, all the various
afflictions which weigh down the yoke of the children o)
Adam ? The evidence of these miseries compelled pagar
philosophers, who knew and believed nothing about tlu
sin of our first father, to say that we were born only tc

228 DILEMMAS. [PART in.

suffer the chastisement which we had merited, by crimes
committed in another life, and that thus our minds had
been attached to corruptible bodies, as a punishment of
the same nature with that which the Tuscan tyrants in
flicted on those whom they bound, while alive, to dead
bodies. But this opinion, that our minds are joined to
bodies as a punishment for sins previously committed in
another life, is rejected by the apostle. What, therefore,
remains but that the cause of these appalling evils be either
the injustice or impotency of God, or the penalty of the
first sin of man ? But, since God is neither unjust nor
impotent, there only remains that which you are unwilling
to acknowledge, but which you must acknowledge in spite
of yourselves — that the yoke, so heavy, which the children
of Adam are obliged to bear, from the time in which their
bodies are taken from their mother's womb till the day
when they return to the womb of their common mother,
the earth, would never have been, had they not deserved
it through the guilt which they derive from their ori
ginal."

CHAPTER XVI.

OF DILEMMAS.

WE may define a dilemma to be a compound reasoning, in
which, after having divided a whole into its parts, we conclude
affirmatively or negatively of the whole, what we had concluded
of each part.

I say, what we had concluded of each part, and not
simply what we had affirmed of it ; for that alone is truly
a dilemma, where what we say of each part is supported
by its special reason.

For example, having to prove that we cannot be happy in
this world, we may do it by this dilemma : —

CHAP. XVI.] -DILEMMAS. 229

We can only be happy in this world by abandoning our
selves to our passions, or by combating them;
If tee abandon ourselves to them, this is an unhappy
state, since it is disgraceful, and we could never be
content with it;

If ice combat them, this is also an unhappy state, since
there is nothing more painful than that inward war
which ice are continually obliged to carry on with
ourselves;

We cannot, therefore, have in this life true happiness.
If we wish to prove, that bishops who do not labour for
the salvation of the souls committed to their care, are with
out excuse before God, we may do so by a dilemma : —
Either they are capable of that office, or they are i?i-

capable ;

If they are capable, they are without excuse for not ful
filling it ;

If they are incapable, they are without excuse for having
undertaken an office so important, when they icere
unable to perform its duties ;

And consequently , however this maybe, they are without
excuse before God, if they do not labour for the salva
tion of the souls committed to their care.
But other observations may be made on these kinds of
reasonings : —

The first is, that we do not always express all the pro
positions which enter into them. For example, the di
lemma we are about to give is contained in these few
words of a speech of St Charles on entering one of the
provincial councils, Si tanto muneri impares, cur tarn ambi-
tiosi; si pares, cur tain negligentes.

Thus, also, there are many things understood in that
celebrated dilemma, by which an ancient philosopher
proved that we ought not to meddle with the affairs of the
republic : —

If we manage them well, ice shall offend men ;
If we manage them ill, we shall offend the gods;
Therefore ice ought not to engage in them.

Of the same kind is that by which another proved that
it was best not to marry : —

230 DILEMMAS. [PART in.

If the wife you espouse be beautiful, she excites jealousy ;
If she be ugly, she disgusts;
Therefore it is best not to marry.

For in both these dilemmas the proposition which should
contain the separation is understood ; and this is very
common, since it is easily understood, being sufficiently
indicated by the particular propositions in which each
part is treated of.

And, moreover, in order that the conclusion be con
tained in the premises, it is always necessary to understand
something general, which may belong to the whole, as in
the first example : —

If we manage them well, we offend men, which is injurious;
If we manage them ill, we offend the gods, which is also

injurious ;
Therefore, it is injurious in every way to engage in the

affairs of the republic.

This caution is very important in order to judge well of
the force of a dilemma. For that, for example, which
renders the one above inconclusive is, that it is not in
jurious to offend men, since we must only avoid offending
God.

The second observation is, that a dilemma may be vicious,
principally through two defects.

One, when the disjunctive on which it is founded is
defective, as not comprehending all the members of the
whole which we divide.

Thus the dilemma against marrying is not conclusive,
since there may be wives which are not so beautiful as to
awaken jealousy, or so ugly as to disgust.

For the same reason, that dilemma is very false which
the ancient philosophers employed against the fear of
death. Either our soul, said they, perishes with the, body,
and thus, having no feeling, we shall be incapable of any evil;
or, if the soul survives the body, it will be more happy than it was
in the body; therefore death is not to be feared. For, as
Montaigne has very wisely remarked, it was great blind
ness not to see that there might be conceived between
these a third state, which is, that the soul, surviving the
body, will find itself in a state of torment and misery,

CHAP. XVII.] PLACES — METHOD OF FINDING ARGUMENTS. 2M1

Avhich would give us just ground of apprehension in re
lation to death, from the fear of falling into that state.

Another defect which renders dilemmas inconclusive,
emerges when the particular conclusions of each part are
not necessary. Thus, it is not necessary that a beautiful
wife should occasion jealousy, because she may be so wise
and virtuous that there is no room to doubt of her fidelity.
It is not necessary, either, that, being ugly, she should
displease her husband, since she may have other qualities
of mind and of character, so valuable that she cannot but
please him.

The third observation is, that he who employs a dilemma
must take care that it may not be turned against himself.
Thus Aristotle testifies, that the dilemma by which the
philosopher endeavoured to prove that one ought not to
engage in state affairs, was turned upon himself, thus : —

If ice govern according to the corrupt ndes of men. we
si tall please them;

Jf ice maintain true justice, ice shall please the gods ;

Therefore ice ought to engage in them.

This retort, however, was not wise ; for it is not advan
tageous to please men by offending God.

CHAPTER XVII.

PLACES, OR THE METHOD OF FINDING ARGUMENTS. THAT

THIS METHOD IS OF LITTLE USE.

WHAT the rhetoricians and logicians call places, loci anjii-
mentorum, are certain general heads, to which may be
reduced all the proofs which we employ in the various
matters of which we treat ; and the part of logic which is
termed invention, is nothing else than that which teaches of
these places

232 PLACES — METHOD OF FINDING ARGUMENTS. [PART III.

Ramus quarrelled on this subject with Aristotle, and
with the philosophers of the schools, because they treated
of places after having given the rules of arguments, and he
maintained against them that it was necessary to explain
the places, and what pertains to invention, before treating
of these rules.

The reason Ramus assigns for this is, that we must have
the matter found, before we can think of arranging it.

Now the exposition of places teaches us to find this
matter, whereas the rules of argument can only teach us
to arrange it.

But this reason is very feeble, for although it be neces
sary for the matter to be found, in order to its arrange
ment, it is, nevertheless, not necessary that we should learn
how to find the matter before having learnt how to dispose
of it. For, in order to learn how to dispose of the mat
ter, it is enough to have some general matter, as examples ;
but the mind and common sense always furnish enough
of these, without its being needful to borrow them from
any art or method. It is, therefore, true that it is neces
sary to have some matter, in order to apply the rules of
argument : but it is not true that it is necessary to find
that matter by the method of places.

We might say, on the contrary, that since we undertake
to teach, in the places, the art of finding arguments and
syllogisms, it is necessary to know beforehand, what is an
argument, and what a syllogism. But it might, perhaps,
be replied, in like manner, that nature alone furnishes us
with a general knowledge of what reasoning is, which is
sufficient to enable us to understand what is said of it in
the places.

It is, therefore, of no service to trouble ourselves about
the order in which places should be treated of, since it is
a matter of very little consequence. But it may, perhaps,
be more useful to inquire, whether it will not be more to
the purpose not to treat of them at all.

We know that the ancients made a great mystery of this
method, and that Cicero preferred it to all dialectic, as it
was taught by the Stoics, since they did not speak of places
at all. Let us leave, says he, all that science which tells us
nothing about the art of finding arguments, and which is

CHAP. XVII.] THIS METHOD OF LITTLE USE. 233

only too prolix in teaching us to j udge of them. Istam artem
totam relinquamus qucc in excogitandis argumentis muta
nimium est, in judicandis nimium loquax. Quintilian, and
all the other rhetoricians, — Aristotle, and all the philoso
phers — speak of it in the same way, so that we could hardly
differ from their opinion, if general experience did not ap
pear entirely opposed to it.

We may adduce, as evidence of this, almost as many
persons as have passed through the ordinary course of
study, and who. have learned, by this artificial method, to
find out the proofs which are taught in the colleges. For
is there any one of them who could say truly, that when
he has been obliged to discuss any subject, he has reflected
on these places, and has sought there the reasons which
were necessary for his purpose ? Consult all the advocates
and preachers which are in the world, all who speak and
write, and who always have matter enough, and I question
if one could be found who had ever thought of making an
argument a causa, ab eff'ectu, ah adjtmctis, in order to
prove that which he wished to establish.

And although Quintilian seems to have held this art in
much esteem, he is, nevertheless, obliged to confess that
we need not, when we treat of any matter, go knocking
at the door of all these places, in order to obtain arguments
and proofs. " Illud quoque" says he, " studiosi eloquenticc
cogitent non esse cum proposita fiterit materla dicendi scru-
tanda sinyula et velut ostiatim pulsanda, ut sciant an ad id
probandum quod intendimus, forte respondeant."

It is true that all the arguments which we make on any
subject may be reduced to those heads, and to those general
terms, which we call places ; but it is not by this method
that we prove them. Nature, the attentive considera
tion of the subject, the knowledge of different truths,
enable us to furnish these, and then art connects these in
certain ways, so that we may say truly of places what St
Augustine said in general of the precepts of rhetoric.
" We find," says he, " that the rules of eloquence are ob
served in the speeches of eloquent persons, although they
never think of these in making them, whether they know
them, or are ignorant of them. They practise these rules
because they are eloquent, but they do not adhere to them

234 PLACES METHOD OF FINDING ARGUMENTS. [PART HI.

in order to be eloquent. Implent quippe ilia quia sunt elo-
quentes, non adhibent ut sint eloquentes.

We walk naturally, as the same father observes in
another place, and in walking we make certain regular
movements of the body ; but it would avail nothing for the
purpose of teaching us to walk, to say, for instance, that
we must send the spirits to certain nerves, move certain
muscles, make certain movements in the joints, put one
foot before the other, and lean on one while the other ad
vances. We may form these rules very well by observing
what nature causes us to do, but we could never make
those actions by the help of these rules. Thus, we treat
of all these places in the most ordinary discourse, and we
can say nothing that is not connected with them ; but it is
not by making a formal reflection on them that we produce
these thoughts, such reflection will only help to damp the
ardour of the mind and to prevent our finding natural and
striking reasons, which are the true ornaments of every
kind of discourse.

Virgil, in the Ninth Book of the .ZEneid, after having
represented Euryalus surprised and surrounded by his
enemies, who were about to revenge on him the death of
their companions, which Nisus, the friend of Euryalus, had
slain, puts these words, full of passionate emotion, in the
mouth of Nisus : —

Me, me adsum, qui feci ; in me convertite ferrum,
O Rutuli ! mea fraus omnis : nihil iste nee ausus,
Nee potuit. Coelum hoc, et sidera conscia testor.
Tanturn infelicem nimium dilexit amicum.

" This is an argument," says Ramus, " a causa efficiente,
but we may judge with certainty, that Virgil, when he
wrote these verses, never dreamt of the place of efficient
cause. He would never have made them had he stopped
to search out that place ; and it was necessary for him, in
order to produce such noble and spirited verses, not only
to forget these rules, if he knew them, but, in some sort,
also to forget himself, in order to realise the passion which
he portrayed."

The little use which has been made of this method of
places during the whole time that it has been discovered
and taught in the schools, is a manifest proof that it is of

CHAP. XVII.] THIS METHOD OF LITTLE USE. 235

no great service ; but when we apply ourselves to obtain
all the good which may be derived from it, we see that we
cannot gain anything which is truly useful and valuable,
for all that can be accomplished by this method, is to dis
cover, on every subject, different thoughts, general, ordi
nary, remote, such as the Lullists find by means of their
tables. Now, so far is it from being useful to obtain this
sort of abundance, that there is nothing which more depraves
the judgment, nothing which more chokes up good seed,
than a crowd of noxious weeds ; nothing renders a mind
more barren of just and weighty thoughts than this noxious
fertility of common thoughts. The mind is accustomed to
this facility, and no longer makes any effort to find appro
priate, special, and natural reasons, which can only be dis
covered by an attentive consideration of the subject.

We ought to consider, then, that the abundance which
is sought after by means of these places is an exceedingly
small advantage ; it is not wanted by a greater part of the
world. We sin much more by excess than by defect, and
our discourses are only too full of matter. Thus, in order
to produce in men a wise and solid eloquence, it would be
much more useful to teach them to be silent than to speak,
that is to say, to repress arid to cut off the low, common,
and false thoughts, than to give them forth as they arise —
a confused mass of reasonings, good and bad, with which
books and discourses are filled.

And since the use of places hardly avails for anything,
save for the finding of these kinds of thoughts, we may say,
that if it is right to know what is said of them, since so
many celebrated men have spoken of them that there has
arisen a kind of necessity to know in general so common
a thing, it is far more important to be thoroughly per
suaded that there is nothing more ridiculous than to em
ploy them, in talking about everything, to no purpose^ as
the Lullists do by means of their general attributes, which
are kinds of places ; and that that fatal facility of talking
about everything, and of finding a reason for everything,
of which some are vain, is so wretched a characteristic of
mind, that it is far below stupidity.

Hence the whole advantage which can be derived from
these places is reduced rather to the general effect which

236 DIVISION OF PLACES — GRAMMATICAL. [PART III.

they produce ; which may, perhaps, be of some service
without our knowing it, in enabling us to recognise at
once, in the subject of which we treat, more of its phases
and parts.

CHAPTER XVIII.

DIVISION OF PLACES INTO THOSE OF GRAMMAR, OF LOGIC,
AND OF METAPHYSICS.

THOSE who have treated of places have divided them in a
different way. That which is followed by Cicero, in his
Books of Invention, and in the second book of the Orator,
and by Quintilian, in the fifth book of his Institutes, is
less methodical, but it is also better adapted for speeches
at the bar, to which these books specially relate ; that of
Ramus is too embarrassed with subdivisions.

The following division, which appears a very convenient
one, is that of a very solid and judicious German philoso
pher, named Claubergius, whose Logic fell into our hands
after the printing of this had been begun. The places are
taken either from grammar, or from logic, or from meta
physics.

GRAMMATICAL PLACES.

The places of grammar are, etymology, and words de
rived from the same root, which are called in Latin conju-
gata, and in Greek 7rapdi/v/m.

We argue from etymology when we say, for example,
that many people in the world never divert themselves,
properly speaking ; because to divert oneself is to desist
from serious occupation, and they are never occupied
seriously.

CHAP. XVIII.] DIVISION OF PLACES LOGICAL. 237

Words derived from the same root also help in finding
out thoughts : —

Homo sum; humani nil a me alienum puto.

Mortali urgemur ab hoste, mortales.

Quid tarn dignum misericordia quam miser ?

Quid tarn indignum misericordia quam superlvs miser ?
What is more worthy of our compassion than a miserable
man ? and what is less worthy of our compassion than a
miserable man who is proud ?

LOGICAL PLACES.

The places of logic are the universal terms — genus,
species, difference, property, accident, definition, division ;
but as all these points have been explained before, it is not
necessary to treat of them further here.

It is only necessary to remark that there are commonly
joined to these places certain general maxims, which it is
well to know, not because they are of any great use, but
because they are common. We have already noticed some
of these under other terms, but it is well to know them
under the ordinary terms : —

1. What is affirmed or denied, of the genus, is affirmed or
denied of the species: — What belongs to all men, belongs to
the great ; but they cannot pretend to advantages which
are above humanity.

2. In destroying the genus, the species is also destroyed: —
He who does not judge at all, cannot judge wrongly; he
who does not speak at all, can never speak indiscreetly.

3. In destroying all the species, the genus is destroyed: —
The forms which are called substantial (excepting the
reasonable soul) are neither body nor spirit ; therefore
they are not substances.

4. If we can affirm or deny of anything the whole difference,
we may affirm or deny the species : — Extension does not be
long to thought ; therefore it is not matter.

5. If we can affirm or deny of anything the property, we
may affirm or deny the species: — Since we cannot figure to
ourselves the half of a thought, or a round or square
thought, it cannot be body.

6. We may affirm or deny the thing defined, of that in re-

238 DIVISION OF PLACES — METAPHYSICAL. [PART III.

lation to which we may affirm or deny the definition : — There
are few just persons, since there are few who have the
firm and abiding purpose of rendering to each what be
longs to him.

METAPHYSICAL PLACES.

The places of metaphysics are certain general terms
belonging to all beings, to which many arguments are
referred, — as causes, effects, wholes, parts, opposed terms.

The definitions which are given in the schools of causes
in general, in saying that a cause is that ivhich produces an
effect, or that through which a thing is, are so vague, and it
is so difficult to see how they agree to all kinds of causes,
that it would be much better to leave this word amongst
those which are not defined, since our idea of it is as clear
as the definitions.

But the division of causes into four kinds, that is, into
final, efficient, material, and formal, is so celebrated, that
it must be known.

The FINAL CAUSE is the end for which a thing is.

There are principal ends — those, to wit, which are
mainly regarded, — and accessory ends, which are only in
directly considered.

That which we undertake to do or obtain is called finis
cujus gratia. Thus health is the end of medicine, since it
undertakes to procure it.

He for whom we labour is called finis cut. Man is the
end of medicine in this sense, since it is for him that it
seeks to obtain a cure.

There is nothing more common than to derive arguments
from the consideration of the end, either for the purpose of
showing that a thing is imperfect, as, that a speech is a
bad one, since it is not adapted to persuade ; or in order
to show that a man has done, or will do, some action,
because it is conformed to the end which he is accustomed
to propose to himself: whence came that celebrated maxim
of a Roman judge, that we ought to inquire before all
things else, Cut bono 1 that is to say, what interest a man
would have in doing such a thing, since men commonly

CHAP. XVIII.] DIVISION OF PLACES — METAPHYSICAL. 239

act according to their interest ; or to show, on the con
trary, that we ought not to suspect a man of such an
action, since it would have been contrary to his purpose.

There are still many other ways of reasoning from the
end, which good sense will discover better than all pre
cepts, which is also true of the other places.

The EFFICIENT CAUSE is that which produces another
thing, — we may derive arguments from it, by showing that
an effect is not, since there has not been a sufficient cause,
or that it is, or will be, by allowing that all the causes are
present. If these causes are necessary, the argument is ne
cessary; if they are contingent and free, it is only probable.

There are different kinds of efficient causes, of which it is
useful to know the names.

God, in creating Adam, was the total cause, since nothing
had co-operated with Him ; but the father and mother are
each only partial causes, in relation to their child, since
both are needed.

The sun is a proper cause of light, but it is only an ac
cidental cause of the death of a man killed by its heat,
since he was weak before.

The father is the proximate cause of his son.

The grandfather is only the remote cause.

The mother is a producing cause.

The nurse is only a preserving cause.

The father is a universal cause, in relation to his child
ren, because they are of the same nature with him.

God is only an equivocal cause, in relation to creatures,
because they are not of the divine nature.

A Avorkman is the principal cause of his work ; his in
struments are only the instrumental causes.

The air which fills an organ is the universal cause of the
harmony of the organ.

The particular disposition of each pipe, and he who
plays, are the particular causes which determine the uni
versal.

The sun is a natural cause.

Man is an intellectual cause, in relation to that which he
does with judgment.

The fire which burns the wood is a necessary cause.

240 DIVISION OF PLACES METAPHYSICAL. [PART III.

A man who walks is a, free cause.

The sun shining into a room is the proper cause of its
light ; the unbarring of the window is only a cause or con
dition, without which the effect would not be conditio sine
qua non.

The fire which burns a house is the physical cause of
the conflagration ; the man who set it on fire is the moral
cause.

We may also bring under efficient cause the exemplary
cause, which is the model according to which a work is
made, as the plan by which an architect erects a building ;
or, in general, that which is the cause of the objective ex
istence of an idea, or of any other image whatever : as the
king, Louis XIV., is the exemplary cause of his portrait.

The MATERIAL CAUSE is that of which things are formed,
as gold is the matter of which a golden vase is made ;
what belongs, or does not belong, to the matter, belongs,
or does not belong, to the things which are composed of it.

The FORM is that which renders a thing what it is, and
distinguishes it from others, whether it be a thing really
distinguished from matter, according to the opinion of the
schools, or simply the arrangement of its parts. It is by
the knowledge of this form that we are able to explain its
properties.

There are as many different effects as there are causes,
these words being reciprocal. The common way of argu
ing from them is to show that if the effect is, the cause is,
since there can be nothing without a cause. We prove,
also, that a cause is good or bad, when its effects are good
or bad. This, however, is not always true in accidental
causes.

We have said enough of the whole and its parts in the
chapter on Division, and it is not necessary, therefore, to
add anything further here.

There are four kinds of opposed terms : —

Relatives : as, father, son, master, servant.

Contraries : as, cold and heat, health and sickness.

Privatives : as, life, death ; sight, blindness ; hearing,
deafness ; knowledge, ignorance.

CHAP. XVIII.] DIVISION OF PLACES— METAPHYSICAL. 241

Contradictories, which consist in a term of the simple
negation of that term — seeing, not seeing. The difference
which there is between the two last kind of opposites, is,
that the privative terms express the negation of a form in
a subject which is capable of it, whereas the negatives do
not indicate that capacity. Hence, we do not say that a
stone is blind or dead, because it is not capable of either
seeing or living.

As these terms are opposed, we employ the one in order
to deny the other. Contradictory terms have this property,
that in taking away one we establish the other.

There are many kinds of comparisons ; for we compare
things either equal or unequal, similar or dissimilar. "VVe
prove that what belongs, or does not belong, to an equal
or similar thing, belongs, or does not belong, to another
thing to which it is equal or similar.

In unequal things, we prove, negatively, that if that
which is more probable is not, that which is less probable
is not, for a stronger reason ; or, affirmatively, that if that
which is less probable is, that which is more probable, is
also. We commonly employ differences, or dissimilitudes,
in order to destroy that which others have wished to estab
lish by these similitudes, as we destroy the argument which
is derived from a judgment, by showing that it was given
in another case.

This is, roughly, a part of what is said on the places.
There are some things which it is more useful to know
only in this way. Those who wish to know more may
find it in the authors who have treated this subject more
at large. We cannot, however, advise any one to look
into the topics of Aristotle, since there is strange confusion
in those books ; but there are some things very pertinent
to this subject in the First Book of his Rhetoric, in which
he sets forth various ways of finding out that a thing is
useful, pleasing, greater, or smaller. It is nevertheless
true, that we cannot attain, in that way, any very valu
able knowledge.

242 DIFFERENT WAYS OF REASONING ILL. [PART III.

CHAPTER XIX.

OF THE DIFFERENT WAYS OF REASONING ILL, WHICH ARE
CALLED SOPHISMS.

ALTHOUGH, if we know the rules of good reasoning, it may
not be difficult to recognise those which are bad, never
theless, as examples to be avoided often strike us more
than examples to be imitated, it will not be without its
use to set forth the principal classes of bad reasoning,
which are called sophisms or paralogisms, since this will
enable us yet more readily to avoid them. We have re
duced all these to seven or eight, some being so gross that
they are not worthy of being noticed.

I.

Proving something other than that which is in dispute.

This sophism is called by Aristotle ignoratio elenchi, that
is to say, the ignorance of that which ought to be proved
against an adversary. It is a very common vice in the
controversies of men. We dispute with warmth, and
often without understanding one another. Passion, or bad
faith, leads us to attribute to our adversary that which 'is
very far from his meaning, in order to carry on the con
test with greater advantage ; or to impute to him conse
quences which we imagine may be derived from his doc
trine, although he disavows and denies them. All this
may be reduced to this first kind of sophism, which an
honest and good man ought to avoid above all things.

It could have been wished that Aristotle, who has taken
pains to point out to us this defect, had been more careful
to avoid it ; for it must be confessed that he has not com
bated honestly many of the ancient philosophers in re
porting their opinions. He refutes Parmenides and Me-
lissus for having admitted only a single principle of all
things, as if they had understood by this principle that of

CHAP. XIX.] DIFFERENT WAYS OF REASONING ILL. 243

which they are composed, whereas, they meant the single
and unique principle from which all things have derived
their origin — which is God.

He blames all the ancients for not havin<r recognised
privation as one of the principles of natural tilings, and he
treats them, on this account, as clowns and fools. But
who docs not see, that what he represents as a great
mystery which had been unknown till he revealed it, could
never have been unknown to any one, since it is impos
sible not to see that the matter of which we make a table
must have had the privation of the form of a table, that is
to say, that it was not a table before it was made into a
table? It is true that these ancients had not availed
themselves of this knowledge to explain the principles of
natural things, since, in reality, there is nothing which
could less contribute to this purpose, it being sufficiently
evident that we do not at all know better how to make a
clock in consequence of knowing that the matter of which
it is made could not have been a clock before it was made
into a clock.

It is, therefore, unjust in Aristotle to reproach the
ancient philosophers with having been ignorant of a thing
which it is impossible to be ignorant of, and to accuse
them of not having employed, for the explanation of nature,
a principle which could explain nothing ; and it is an illu
sion and a sophism to have produced to the world this
principle of privation as a rare secret, since it is not this
that we look for, when we attempt to discover the prin
ciples of nature. We suppose it to be well known that a
thing is not, before it is made, but we wish to know of
what elements it is composed — by what cause it has been
produced.

There never was, for example, a sculptor, Avho, in in
structing any one how to make a statue, would have given,
as the first instruction, that lesson by which Aristotle
would begin the explanation of all the works of nature : —
My friend, the first thing that it behoves you to know is,
that in order to make a statue, it is necessary to choose a
piece of marble which is not already that statue which you
wish to make.

244 DIFFERENT WAYS OF REASONING ILL. [PART III.

II.

Assuming as true the thing in dispute.

This is what Aristotle calls a begging of the question,
which is clearly altogether opposed to true reasoning, since,
in all reasoning, that which is employed as proof ought to
be clearer and better known than that which we seek to
prove.

Galileo, however, has accused him, and with justice, of
having himself fallen into this error, when he tried to prove
that the earth was at the centre of the world, by this ar
gument : —

The nature of heavy things is to tend to the centre of the

world, and of light things to go off from it;
Now, experience proves that heavy things tend towards
the centre of the earth, and that light things go off
from it ;

Therefore, the centre of the earth is the same as the centre
of the world.

It is clear that there is in the major of this argument
a manifest begging of the question ; for we see well enough
that heavy things tend towards the centre of the earth ;
but where did Aristotle learn that they tend towards the
centre of the world, unless he assumed that the centre of
the earth is the same as the centre of the world ? — which
is the very conclusion that he wishes to prove by that
argument.

Among the pure beggings of the question, too, are the
greater part of those arguments which are employed to
prove certain anomalous kinds of substances, which are
called, in the schools, substantial forms ; these, it is main
tained, are corporeal, though they have no body, Avhich it
is difficult enough to comprehend. If there are not sub
stantial forms, say they, there could be no generation ; now,
there is generation in the world, therefore, there are
substantial forms.

We have only to distinguish the equivocation in the
word generation, in order to see that this argument is but
a pure begging of the question ; for if we understand by
the word generation the natural production of a new whole
in nature, as the production of the chicken which is formed

CHAP. XIX.] DIFFERENT WAYS OF REASONING ILL. 245

in an egg, we may say, with reason, that there are genera
tions in this sense ; but we cannot conclude that there are
substantial forms, since the simple arrangement of parts,
by nature, may produce these new wholes, and these new
natural beings. But if by the word generation is under
stood what they commonly understand by it, the produc
tion of a new substance which did not exist before, to wit,
that substantial form, the very thing which is in dispute,
is assumed ; since it is plain that he who denies substantial
forms will not allow that nature produces substantial
forms ; and so far is it from being necessary that he
should be led, by this argument, to avow such produc
tion, that he ought rather to derive from it a directly con
trary conclusion in this way : If there are substantial
forms, nature must produce something which did not
exist before. Now, nature did not produce new substances,
since this would be a kind of creation ; and, consequently,
there are no substantial forms.

The following is another of the same kind : — If there
are not substantial forms, say they again, natural beings
would not be wholes, which they term per se, totum per se,
but beings per accident • now, they are wholes per se ; there
fore there are substantial forms.

It is still necessary to ask those who employ this argu
ment to have the goodness to explain what they understand
by a whole per se, totum per se; for if they understand, as they
do, a being composed of matter and of form, it is clear that
this is a begging of the question, since it is as though they
should say — If there are not substantial forms, natural beings
could not be composed of matter, and substantial forms ;
now, they are composed of matter, and substantial forms ;
therefore, there are substantial forms. But if they under
stand anything else, let them say so, and we shall see that
they prove nothing.

We have thus stopped a little by the way, to show the
feebleness of the arguments on which are established, in
the schools, these sorts of substances, which are discovered
neither by the sense nor by the mind, and of which we
know nothing further than that they are called substantial
forms ; because, although those who defend them do so with
a very good intention, the principles, nevertheless, which

246 DIFFERENT WAYS OF REASONING ILL. [PART III.

they employ, and the ideas which they give of these forms,
obscure and disturb the very solid and convincing proofs
of the immortality of the soul which are derived from the
distinction of minds and bodies, and from the impossibility
of any substance, which is not matter, perishing through
the changes which happen to matter ; for, by means of
these substantial forms, we unwittingly furnish free thinkers
with examples of substances which perish, which are not
properly matter, and to which we attribute in animals a
multitude of thoughts, that is to say, of actions purely
spiritual. Hence, it is useful, for the sake of religion, and
for the conviction of the scoffers and irrreligious, to take
away from them this reply, by showing that nothing can
rest on a worse foundation than these perishable sub
stances, which are called substantial forms.

We may reduce, also, to this kind of sophism, the proof
which is derived from a principle different from that which
is in dispute, but which we know is equally contested by
him with whom AVC dispute. There are, for example, two
dogmas equally established amongst catholics ; the one,
that all the points of faith cannot be proved by Scripture
alone ; the other, that it is a point of faith that infants are
capable of baptism. It would, therefore, be bad reasoning
in an anabaptist to prove against the catholics that they
are wrong in believing that infants are capable of baptism,
since nothing is said of it in the Scripture, because this
proof would assume that we ought to believe only what
is in the Scripture, which is denied by the catholics.

Finally, we may bring under this sophism all reasonings
in which we prove a thing unknown, by another equally
or more unknown ; or an uncertain thing, by another which
is equally or more uncertain.

III.

Taking for a cause that which is not a cause.

This sophism is called non causa pro causa. It is very
common amongst men, and we fall into it in many ways.
One is, through simple ignorance of the true causes of
things. It is in this way that philosophers have attributed
a thousand effects to the abhorrence of a vacuum, which,

CHAP. XIX.] DIFFERENT WAYS OF REASONING ILL. ^47

in our time, have been proved to demonstration — and by
very ingenious experiments — to be caused by the weight of
the air alone, as we may see in the excellent treatise of
M. Pascal. The same philosophers commonly teach that
vessels full of water break when they freeze, because the
water contracts, and thus leaves a vacuum which nature
cannot endure. It has, however, been discovered, that they
break, on the contrary, because water, when frozen, oc
cupies more room than it did before, which also occa
sions ice to float in water.

We may refer to the same sophism all attempts to prove
by causes which are remote, and prove nothing, things
either sufficiently clear of themselves, or false, or at least
doubtful, as when Aristotle endeavours to prove that the
world is perfect by this reason : The world is perfect be
cause it contains bodies ; body is perfect because it has three
dimensions ; three dimensions are perfect, because three arc
all (quia tria sunt omnia) ; and three are all because ice
cannot employ the word all, when there are but one or two
things, but only when there are three. We might prove by
this reasoning that the smallest atom is as perfect as the world ;
since it has three dimensions as well as the world. But
so far is this from proving that the world is perfect, that,
on the contrary, all body as body, is essentially imperfect,
and the perfection of the world consists, principally, in its
containing creatures which are not bodies.

The same philosopher proves that there are three simple
movements, because there are three dimensions. It is diffi
cult to sec liow the one follows from the other.

He proves also that the heavens are unalterable and
incorruptible, because they have a circular motion, and
there is nothing contrary to circular motion. But, 1, "We
do not see what the contrariety of motion has to do with the
corruption or alteration of body. 2, We see still less how
the circular motion from east to west is not contrary to
another circular motion from west to east.

Another cause which makes men fall into this sophism,
is the empty vanity which makes us ashamed to acknow
ledge our ignorance, for thus it happens that we prefer
rather to feign imaginary causes of the things for which
we are asked to account, than to confess that we do not

248 DIFFERENT WAYS OF REASONING ILL. [PART III.

know the cause, and the way in which we escape this con
fession of our ignorance is amusing enough. When we
see an effect, the cause of which is unknown, we imagine
that we have discovered it, when we have joined to that
effect a general word of virtiie or faculty, which forms, in
our mind, no other idea except that that effect had some
cause, which we knew well before we found that word.
There is no one, for example, who does not know that his
pulse beats, — that iron, being near a loadstone, unites Avith
it, — that senna purges, — and that the poppy lulls to sleep.
Those who make no profession of knowledge, and to whom
ignorance is no disgrace, frankly avow that they know
these effects, but that they are ignorant of the cause ;
whereas the learned, who would blush to confess so much,
go about the matter in a different way, and pretend that
they have discovered the true cause of these effects, which
is, that there is in the pulse a pulsific virtue, — in the mag
net a magnetic virtue, — in the senna a purgative virtue,
— and in the poppy a soporific virtue. Thus is the diffi
culty very conveniently resolved ; and there is not a
Chinese who might not, with as much ease, have checked
the admiration which clocks excited in that country, when
they were introduced from Europe ; for he need only have
said that he knew perfectly the reason of that which others
thought so marvellous, which was nothing else than that
that machine had an indicating virtue which marked the
hours on the dial, and a sonorific virtue, which sounded
them forth. He would thus have become as learned in the
knowledge of clocks as these philosophers are in the know
ledge of the stroke of the pulse, the properties of the mag
net, of senna, and of the poppy.

There are, in addition to these, other words which serve
to render men learned at little expense, such as sympathy,
antipathy, occult qualities. But still, all these terms would
not convey any false meaning, if those who used them
would content themselves with giving to these words, vir
tue and faculty, a general notion of cause, whatever it may
be, interior or exterior, disposing or active, for it is cer
tain that there is in the loadstone a disposition which leads
iron to unite with it, rather than with any other stone,
and men may be allowed to call the disposition, be it

CHAP. XIX.] DIFFERENT WAYS OF REASONING ILL. 249

whatever it may, magnetic virtue. So that they are de
ceived only when they imagine themselves to be more
learned for having discovered that word, or inasmuch as
they would persuade us that through that word we com
prehend a certain imaginary quality, by which the magnet
attracts iron, which neither they nor any one else ever did
comprehend.

But there are others who allege as true causes in na
ture pure chimeras. This is done by the astrologers, who
refer everything to the influence of the stars, and who ac
tually, in this way, have discovered that there must be
an immoveable heaven beyond that to which they assign
motion, because the earth produces different things in dif
ferent countries (Non omnis fert omnia tellus ; India mitt it
c.but'; molles stia t/uira /Sabcei), the cause of which must be
referred to the influences of a heaven, which, being im
moveable, has always the same aspect towards different
parts of the earth.

One of them, however, having undertaken to prove, by
physical reasons, the immobility of the earth, took, as one
of his principal demonstrations, this mysterious reason,
that if the earth turned round the sun, the influences of
the stars would be disordered, which would cause great
confusion in the world.

It is by these influences that the people are frightened
when a comet* appears, or when an eclipse happens, as
that one in the year 1654, which was to have upset the
world, and especially the city of Rome, as it was expressly
said in the Chronology of Helvicus, Roma fa1 alls, although
there is no reason why either comets or eclipses should
have any considerable effect on the earth, or why causes
so general as these should act rather at one place than
another, and threaten a king or a prince rather than an
artizan. There are, moreover, a hundred of them which
have not been followed by any remarkable effect ; and it,
sometimes, wars, mortalities, plagues, or the death of some
prince, happen after comets and eclipses, they happen nl.-o
without comets and without eclipses. Moreover, these
effects are so general and so common, that it would be

* See the " Thoughts on Comets'' of Bavlc.

250 DIFFERENT WATS OF REASONING ILL. [PART III.

strange if they did not happen every year in some part of
the world ; so that those who say vaguely that such a comet
threatens some great man with death, do not risk very
much.

It is still worse when they assign chimerical influences
as the cause of the vicious or virtuous inclinations of men,
and even of their particular actions, and of the events of
their life, without having any other ground for doing so,
except that of a thousand predictions, it happens by
chance that some are true. But if we would judge of
things by good sense, we must allow that a torch lighted
in the chamber at the hour of birth, ought to have more
influence on the body of the child than the planet Saturn,
in any aspect, or in any conjunction whatever.

Finally, there are some who assign chimerical causes for
chimerical effects, as those who maintain that nature ab
hors a vacuum, and that she exerts herself to avoid it
(which is an imaginary effect, for nature abhors nothing,
but all the effects which are attributed to that horror de
pend on the weight of the air alone), are continually ad
vancing reasons for that imaginary horror, which are still
more imaginary. Nature abhors a vacuum, says one of
them, because she needs the continuity of bodies for the
transmission of influences, and for the propagation of qua
lities. It is a strange kind of science this, which proves
that which is not, by means of that which is not.

Hence, when we engage in seeking after the causes of
alleged extraordinary effects, it is necessary to examine
with care if the effects are true, for often men weary them
selves uselessly, in seeking after the reasons of things
which do not exist, and there are an infinite number which
ought to be resolved in the same way as Plutarch resolved
that question which he proposed to himself, Why those
colts which had been chased by the wolves are swifter than
others ; for after having said that, perhaps it was because
those that were slower had been seized by the wolves, and
that thus those which escaped were the swiftest ; or again,
that fear having given them an extraordinary swiftness,
they still retained the habit ; he finally suggests another
solution, which is apparently the real one, — perhaps, says
he, after all, it is not true. In this way must be explained

CHAP. XIX.] DIFFERENT WAYS OP REASONING ILL. 251

the great number of effects which are attributed to the
moon, as that bones are full of marrow when it is at the
full, and empty when it is on the wane ; that the same is
true of crawfish, for there are some who say that all this
is false, as some careful observers have assured us they
have proved, that bones and crawfish are found indiffer
ently, sometimes full and sometimes empty, during all the
changes of the moon. The same is true, to all appearance,
in relation to a number of observations which are made
for the cutting of wood, for reaping and sowing corn, for
grafting trees, for taking medicines. The world will be
delivered, by degrees, from all this bondage, which has
no other foundation than suppositions of which no one has
ever seriously proved the truth. Hence the injustice of
those who pretend that, if they allege an experiment as
a fact derived from some ancient author, we ought to receive
it without examination.

We may bring under this kind of sophism too, that
common fallacy of the human mind, post hoc, ergo propter
hoc. This happens after such a thing, therefore it must be
caused by that thing. In this way it has been concluded
that the star which is called the dog-star, is the cause of
the extraordinary heat we feel during the days which
are termed the dog-days, which led Virgil to say, when
speaking of that star, which is called, in Latin, Sirius —

Aut Sirius ardor :

Ille sitim morbosque t'erons mortalibus aegris
Naseitur, ct kuvo contristat lumhie ccelum.

Although, as Gassendi has very well remarked, there is
nothing more unreasonable than this imagination, for that
star being on the other side of the line, its influence ought
to be much more powerful in these parts, to which it is
more perpendicular ; notwithstanding which, the days
which we call dog-days here are the winter season there ;
so that, in that country, the inhabitants have much more
ground for believing that the dog-star brings them cold,
than we have for believing that it is the cause of our heat.

IV.

Incomplete En numeration.
There is scarcely any vice of reasoning into which able

252 DIFFERENT WA?S OF REASONING ILL. [PART III.

men fall more easily than that of making imperfect enu
merations, and of not sufficiently considering all the ways
in which a thing may exist, or take place, which leads
them to conclude rashly, either that it does not exist, be
cause it does not exist in a certain way, though it may
exist in another, or that it exists in such and such a way,
although it may still be in another way, which they have
not considered.

We may find examples of these defective reasonings in
the proofs by which M. Gassendi establishes the principle
of his philosophy, which is that of a vacuum diffused
among the parts of matter, called by him vacuum dissemina-
tum. And we refer to these the more willingly, because
M. Gassendi having been a celebrated man, stored with a
great fund of curious knowledge, the faults even which
may be met with in the great number of works which have
been published since his death, are not to be despised, but
deserve being known ; whereas it is very useless to load
the memory with those which are found in authors of no
reputation.

The first argument which Gassendi employs in order to
prove this diffused vacuum, and which he maintains, in one
place, should be considered as a demonstration as clear as
those of mathematics, is this : —

If there were no vacuum, and the whole were filled with
bodies, motion would be impossible, and the universe would
be only one vast mass of rigid, inflexible, and immoveable
matter, for the universe being completely filled, no body
could move without taking the place of some other. Thus
if a body, A, move, it must displace another body at least
equal to itself, to wit, B ; and B, in order to move, must
also displace another. Now this can happen only in two
ways, — the one, that this displacing of bodies goes on to
infinity, which is ridiculous and impossible ; the other, that
it proceeds in a circle, and thus the last displaced body
occupies the place of A.

There is not here, however, so far, any imperfect enu
meration ; and it is further true, that it is ridiculous to
suppose that, in moving a body, the bodies which displace
one another would be moved to infinity. All that is
maintained is, that the motion goes on in a circle, and that

CHAP. XIX.] DIFFERENT WAYS OF REASONING ILL. 253

the last body moved occupies the place of the first, which
is A, and that thus all will be filled. This M. Gassendi
undertakes to refute by the following argument : — The
first moved, which is A, cannot move unless the last,
which is X, move. Now X cannot move, because, in
order to move, it must take the place of A, which is not
yet empty ; and therefore, X not being able to move, A
cannot cither ; therefore everything remains immoveable.
The whole of this reasoning is founded only on this sup
position, that the body X, which is immediately before A,
can move on only one condition, which is, that the place
of A be already empty when it begins to move ; so that,
before the moment in which it occupies that place, there
be another in which it may be said to be empty. But this
supposition is false and imperfect, since there is still another
way in which it is possible for X to move, which is, that
at the same instant in which it occupies the place of A,
A quits that place : and in this case there is no incon
venience. — A pushing B, and B pushing C, and so on
to X, and X at the same moment occupying the place
of A : in this way there will be motion, but no va
cuum.

Now that this is possible, that is to say, that a body
may occupy the place of another body at the same moment
in which that body quits it, is a thing which we are obliged
to acknowledge in any hypothesis whatever, if we admit
any continuous matter; if, for example, we distinguish in
a rod two parts which immediately follow each other, it is
clear that when we move it, at the same instant in which
the first quits a space, that space is occupied by the second,
and that there is no interval in which we can say that
space is void of the first, and not filled by the second.
This is still more clear in a circle of iron which turns
round its centre ; for in this case each part occupies at the
same instant the space which has been left by that which
preceded it, without there being any necessity for imagin
ing a vacuum. Now, if this is possible in a circle of iron,
why may it not be so in a circle partly of wood and partly of
aii- ? And why may not the body A, which we will suppose
to be wood, push and displace the body B, which we will
suppose to be air, — the body B displace another, — and that

254 DIFFERENT WAYS OF REASONING ILL. [PART III.

other another, until X, which will take the place of A at
the same instant in which A leaves it ?

It is clear, therefore, that the defect of M. Gassendi's
reasoning springs from his belief, that it is necessary in
order that a body may take the place of another, for that
place to be empty previously, and for at least a moment
before, and from his not considering that it is sufficient if
it be empty at the same moment.

The other proofs which he adduces are derived from
different experiments, by which he showed very clearly
that air may be compressed, and that we may force fresh
air into a space which seemed already full, as we see in
air-balls and air-guns.

On these experiments he founds this reasoning : — If the
space A, being already full of air, is able to receive a fresh
quantity by compression, it must be either that this fresh
air which passes into it, does so by penetrating into the
space already occupied by the other air, which is impos
sible, — or that the air contained in A did not fill it en
tirely, but that there were between the particles of air
void spaces, into which the fresh air is received ; and this
second hypothesis proves, says he, what I maintain, which
is, that there are void spaces between the parts of matter,
capable of being filled with new bodies. But it is very
strange that M. Gassendi could not perceive that he was
reasoning in an imperfect enumeration, and that, besides
the hypothesis of penetration, which he judges, with rea
son, to be naturally impossible, and that of diffused voids
between the particles of matter which he wishes to estab
lish, there is a third, of which he says nothing, but which,
being possible, renders his argument invalid ; for we may
suppose that between the greater particles of air there may
be a matter finer and more subtile, and which, being able
to pass through the pores of all bodies, makes the space
which appears full of air able still to receive new air ;
because this subtile matter, being driven by the particles
of air which are forced in, gives place to them by escaping
through the pores.

And M. Gassendi was the more called upon to reject
that hypothesis, since he himself admits this subtile matter
which penetrates bodies, and passes through all pores, —

CHAP. XIX.] DIFFERENT WAYS OF REASONING ILL. 255

since he considers heat and cold to be corpuscules which
enter into our pores, — since he says the same thing of light,
— and since he confesses even in that celebrated experiment
which he made with the quicksilver, which remained sus
pended at the height of two feet three inches and a half, in
a tube much longer than this, thus leaving a space above
which appeared to be empty, and which certainly was not
tilled with any sensible matter, — since he confesses, we
say, that it could not with reason be maintained, that that
space was absolutely void, since light passed into it, which
he held to be a body.

Thus, in filling with subtile matter those spaces, which
he maintained to be empty, there would have been as
much room left for the entrance of new bodies, as though
they had actually been empty.

Judging uf a thing by that which only belongs to it accidentally.

This sophism is called in the schools fallo.cia accidentis,
which is, when we draw a simple, unrestricted, and abso
lute conclusion, from what is true only by accident. This
is done by the number of people who decry antimony,
because, being misapplied, it produces bad effects ; and by
others, who attribute to eloquence all the bad effects which
it produces when abused, or to medicine the faults of cer
tain ignorant doctors.

It is in this way that the heretics of the present day
have led so many deluded people to believe that we ought
to reject, as the inventions of Satan, the invocation of saints,
the veneration of relics, the prayer for the dead, because
somewhat of abuse and superstition had crept in amongst
these holy practices, authorised by all antiquity ; as though
the bad use which men may make of the best things ren
dered them bad.

We often fall into this vicious reasoning when we take
simple occasions for true causes. As if any should accuse
the Christian religion of having been the cause of the
murder of an infinite number of persons, who have chosen
rather to suffer death than to renounce Jesus Christ;
whereas it is to neither the Christian religion, nor the con-

256 DIFFERENT WAYS OF REASONING ILL. [PATCT III.

stancy of the martyrs, that these murders ought to be
attributed, but simply to the injustice and cruelty of the
pagans. It is through this sophism, also, that good people
are often said to be the cause of all the evils which they
might have avoided by doing things which would have
offended their conscience ; because, if they had chosen to
relax in that strict observance of the law of God, these
evils would not have happened.

We see also a famous example of this sophism in the
ridiculous reasoning of the Epicureans, who concluded
that the gods must have a human form, because among all
creatures in the world men alone had the use of reason.
The gods, said they, are very happy ; none can be happy
without virtue ; there is no virtue without reason ; and reason
is found noickere except in the human form ; it must be
avowed, therefore, that the gods have the human form. But
they were very blind, not to see that although in men the
substance which thinks and reasons be united to a human
body, it is, nevertheless, not the human figure which en
ables men to think and reason, — it being absurd to imagine
that reason and thought depend on anything which is in a
nose, a mouth, cheeks, two arms, two hands, two feet ; and
it was thus a puerile sophism in these philosophers to con
clude that reason could only dwell in the human form,
because in man it is accidentally united with that form.

VI.

Passing from a divided sense to a connected sense, or from a
connected sense to a divided sense.

The former of these sophisms is called fallacia composi-
tionis ; the latter, fallacia divisionis. They will be under
stood better by examples.

Jesus Christ says, in the gospel, in speaking of his
miracles, The blind see, the lame walk, the deaf hear. This
cannot be true if we take these things separately, and not
together, that is to say, in a divided, and not in a con
nected sense. For the blind could not see, remaining
blind ; and the deaf could not hear, remaining deaf; — but
those who had been blind before were so no longer, but
now saw ; and so of the deaf.

CHAP. XIX.] DIFFERENT WAYS OF REASONING ILL. 257

It is in the same sense, also, that God is said, in the
Scripture, to justify the ungodly. For this does not mean,
that he considers as just those who are still ungodly, but
that he renders just, by his grace, those who before were
ungodly.

There are, on the contrary, propositions which are true
only in an opposite sense to the divided sense : as when St
Paul says, that liars, fornicators, and covetous men shall
not enter into the kingdom of heaven. For this does not
mean that none of those who have had these vices shall be
saved, but only that those who have continued addicted to
them, and have never left them by turning to God. shall
have no place in the kingdom of heaven.

It is easy to see that we cannot, without a sophism, pass
from one of these senses to the other ; and that those, for
example, would reason ill, who should promise themselves
heaven while remaining in their sins, because Jesus came
to save sinners, and because it is said in the gospel that
women of evil life shall enter into the kingdom of God before
the Pharisees ; or who, on the other hand, having forsaken
evil, should despair of their salvation, as having nothing
to expect but the punishment of their sins, because it is
said that the anger of God is reserved against all those
Avho live ungodly lives, and that none who are vicious
shall have any part in the inheritance of Jesus Christ.
The first would pass from the divided sense to the com
pounded, in promising themselves, though still continuing
sinners, that which is only promised to those who cease to
be so, by true conversion ; and the last would pass from
the compounded sense to the divided, in applying to those
who have been sinners, but who cease to be so by turning
to God, that which refers only to sinners remaining in
their sins and wicked life.

VII.

Passing from what is true in some respect, to what is true
absolutely.

This is what is called in the schools a dido secundum
quid ad dictum simplicitcr. The following are examples :
The Epicureans proved, again, that the gods must have the

258 DIFFERENT WAYS OF REASONING ILL. [PART III.

human form because it is the most beautiful, and every
thing which is beautiful must be in God. This was bad
reasoning; for the human form is not beautiful absolutely,
but only in relation to bodies. And thus, the perfection
being only in some respect, and not absolutely, it did not
follow that it must be in God because all perfections are
in God, it being only those which are perfections abso
lutely, that is to say, which contain no imperfection, which
were necessary in God.

We find also in Cicero, in the Third Book, of the nature
of the gods, an absurd argument of Cotta against the
existence of God, which may be referred to the same vice.
How, says he, can we conceive God. since ive can attribute no
virtue to him ? For shall we say that he has prudence 1 But
since prudence consists in the choice between good and evil,
what need can God have for this choice, not being capable of
any evil"? Shall we say that he has intelligence and reason?
But reason and intelligence serve to discover to us that winch
is unknown from that which is knoivn; now, there can be
nothing unknown to God. Neither can justice be in God, be
cause this relates only to the intercourse of men ; nor temperance,
since he has no desires to moderate; nor strength, since he is
susceptible of neither pain nor labour, and is not exposed to any
danger. How, therefore, can that be a god which has neither
intelligence nor virtue ?

It is difficult to conceive anything more impertinent
than this method of reasoning. It resembles the notion of
a rustic who, having never seen houses covered with any
thing but thatch, and having heard that there were in
towns no roofs of thatch, should conclude therefrom that
there were no houses in towns, and that those who dwell
there are very miserable, being exposed to all the incle
mencies of the weather. This is how Cotta, or rather,
Cicero, reasons. There can be no virtues in God like
those in men ; therefore, there is no virtue in God. And
what is so marvellous is, that he concludes that there is no
virtue in God, only because the imperfection which is
found in human virtue cannot be in God ; so that what
proves to him that God has no intelligence, is the fact that
nothing is hid from him, that is to say, that he sees nothing
because he sees everything ; that he can do nothing, be-

CHAP. XIX.] DIFFERENT WAYS OF REASONING ILL. 259

cause he can do everything ; that he enjoys no happiness,
because he possesses all happiness.

VIII.

Abusing the ambiguity ofivonls, which may be done 'indifferent
ways.

We may reduce to this kind of sophism all those syllo
gisms which are vicious, though having four terms,
whether this be because the middle is taken twice parti
cularly, or because it is taken in one sense in the first pro
position, and in another in the second, or, finally, because
the terms of the conclusion are not taken in the same sense
in the premises as in the conclusion : For we do not restrict
the word ambiguity to those words alone that are mani
festly equivocal, which scarcely ever mislead any one, but
we comprise under it anything which may change the
meaning of a word, especially when men do not easily
perceive that change, because different things being signi
fied by the same word, they take them for the same thing.
On this subject, we may refer to what has been said to
wards the end of the First Part, where we have also
spoken of the remedy which should be employed against
the confusion of ambiguous words by denning them so pre
cisely that none can be deceived.

We shall content ourselves, therefore, with referring ^ to
some examples of this ambiguity, which sometimes deceive
men of ability, such as those which we often find in words
which signify some whole, which may be taken either
collectively, for all their parts together, or distributive!/,
for each of these parts.

In this way is to be resolved that sophism of the stoics,
who concluded that the world was an animal endowed
with reason, because that which //as the use of rat son is better
than that which has not. " Now there is nothing," say they.
'' which is better than the world, therefore, the world has
the use of reason." The minor of this argument is false,
since it attributes to the world that which belongs only
to God, which is, that of being such that it is impossible to
conceive anything better, or more perfect. But in limit-
in"- ourselves to creatures, although we may say that there

260 DIFFERENT WAYS OF REASONING ILL. [PART III.

is nothing better than the world, taking it, collectively, for
the totality of all the beings that God has created, all
that we can conclude from this at most is, th^,t the world
has the use of reason in relation to some of its parts, such
as are angels and men, and not that the whole together was
an animal endowed with the use of reason. This would
be the same kind of bad reasoning as to say — man thinks ;
now, man is composed of mind and body ; therefore, mind
and body think. For it is enough, in order that we may
attribute thought to the whole man, that he thinks in re
lation to one of the parts ; and from this it does not at all
follow that he thinks in the other.

IX.

Deriving a general conclusion from a defective induction.

When, from the examination of many particular things,
we rise to the knowledge of a general truth — this is called
induction. Thus, when we find, by the examination of many
seas, that the water in them is salt, and of many rivers,
that the water in them is fresh, we infer, generally, that
the water of the sea is salt, and that of rivers fresh. The
different experiments by which we have found that gold
does not diminish in the fire, leads us to judge that this is
true of all gold. And since no people have ever been
found who do not speak, we believe confidently that all
men speak, that is to say, employ sounds to express their
thoughts. It is in this way that all our knowledge begins,
since individual things present themselves to us before uni-
versals, although, afterwards, the universals help us to
know the individual.

It is, however, nevertheless true, that induction alone is
never a certain means of acquiring perfect knowledge, as
we shall show in another place. The consideration of in
dividual things furnishes to our mind only the occasion of
turning its attention to its natural ideas, according to which
it judges of the truth of things in general. For it is true,
for example, that I might never perhaps have been led to
consider the nature of a triangle if I had not seen a triangle,
which furnished me with the occasion of thinking of it.
But it, nevertheless, is not the particular examination of

CHAP. XX.] BAD REASONINGS COMMON IX CIVIL LIFE. 261

all the triangles which makes me conclude generally and
certainly of all, that the space which they contain is equal
to that of the rectangle of their whole base and a part of
their side (for this examination would be impossible), but
simply the consideration of what is contained in the idea
of a triangle which I find in iny mind.

Be this as it may, reserving the consideration of this
subject for another place, it is enough to say here, that
defective inductions, those, that is to say, which are not
complete, often lead us to fall into error ; and I shall con
tent myself with referring to one remarkable example of
this.

All philosophers had believed, up to the present time,
as an undoubted truth, that a syringe being well stopped,
it would be impossible to draw out the piston without
bursting it, and that we might make water rise as high as
we chose in pumps by suction. What made this to be so
firmly believed was, that it was supposed to have been
verified by a most certain induction derived from a multi
tude of experiments ; but, both are found to be false, since
new experiments have been made which have proved that
the piston of a syringe, however well it may be stopped,
may be drawn out. provided we employ a force equal to
the weight of a column of water of more than 23 feet in
height, of the diameter of the syringe ; and that we cannot
raise water, by suction in a pump, higher than 22 or 23 feet

CHAPTER XX.

OF THE BAD REASONINGS WHICH ARE COMMON IN CIVIL
LIFE AND IN ORDINARY DISCOURSE.

WE have seen some examples of the faults which are most
common in reasoning on scientific subjects ; but, since the
principal use of reason is not in relation to those kind of

262 SOPHISMS COMMON IN CIVIL LIFE. [PART III.

subjects which enter but little into the conduct of life, and
in which there is much less danger of being deceived, it
would, without doubt, be much more useful to consider
generally what betrays men into the false judgments which
they make on every kind of subject, and principally on
that of morals, and of other things which are important in
civil life, and which constitute the ordinary subject of their
conversation. But, inasmuch as this design would require
a separate work, which would comprehend almost the whole
of morals, we shall content ourselves with indicating here,
in general, some of the causes of those false judgments
which are so common amongst men.

We do not stay to distinguish false judgments from bad
reasonings, and shall inquire indifferently into the causes
of each, — both because false judgments are the sources of
bad reasonings, and produce them as a necessary conse
quence, and because in reality there is almost always a
concealed and enveloped reasoning in what appears to be
a simple judgment, there being always something which
operates on the motive and principle of that judgment.
For example, when we judge that a stick which appears
bent in the water is really so, this judgment is founded on
that general and false proposition, that what appears bent
to our senses, is so really ; and this involves a reason
ing, though not developed. In considering them generally,
the causes of our errors appear to be reducible to two
principles : the one interior — the irregularity of the will,
which troubles and disorders the judgment; the other ex
ternal^ which lies in the objects of which we judge, and
which deceive our minds by false appearances. Now
although these causes almost always appear united to
gether, there are, nevertheless, certain errors, in which one
prevails more than the other ; and hence we shall treat of
them separately.

OF THE SOPHISMS OF SELF-LOVE, OF INTEREST, AND OF
PASSION.

I.

If we examine with care what commonly attaches men
rather to one opinion than to another, we shall find that it

CHAP. XX.] SELF-LOVE INTEREST PASSION. 263

is not a conviction of the truth, and the force of the
reasons, but some bond of self-love, of interest, or of
passion. This is the weight which bears down the scale,
and which decides us in the greater part of our doubts.
It is this which gives the greatest impetus to our judg
ments, and which holds us to them most forcibly. We
judge of things, not by what they are in themselves, but
by what they are in relation to us, and truth and utility
are to us but one and the same thing.

No other proofs are needed than those which we see
every day, to show that the things which are held every
where else as doubtful, or even as false, are considered
most certain by all of some one nation, or profession, or
institution. For, since it cannot be that what is true in
Spain should be false in France, nor that the minds of all
Spaniards are so differently constituted from those of
Frenchmen, as that, judging by the same rules of rea
soning, that which appears generally true to the one
should appear generally false to the others, it is plain that
this diversity of judgment can arise from no other cause
except that the one choose to hold as true that which is to
their advantage, and that the others, having no interest at
stake, judge of it in a different way.

Nevertheless, what can be more unreasonable than to
take our interest as the motive for believing a thing ? All
that it can do, at most, is to lead us to consider with more
attention the reasons which may enable us to discover the
truth of that which we wish to be true ; but it is only the
truth which must be found in the thing itself, independently
of our desires, which ought to convince us. I am of such
a country ; therefore, I must believe that such a saint
preached the gospel there. I am of such an order ; there
fore, I must believe that such a privilege is right. These
are no reasons. Of Avhatever order, and of whatever
country you may be, you ought to believe only Avhat is
true ; and what you would have been disposed to believe,
though you had been of another country, of another order,
and of another profession.

II.

But this illusion is much more evident when any change

264 SOPHISMS COMMON IN CIVIL LIFE. [PART III.

takes place in the passions ; for, though all things remain
in their place, it appears, nevertheless, to those who are
moved by some new passion, that the change which has
taken place in their own heart alone, has changed all ex
ternal things which have any relation to them. How
often do we see persons who are able to recognise no good
quality, either natural or acquired, in those against whom
they have conceived an aversion, or who have been op
posed in something to their feelings, desires, and interests?
This is enough to render them at once, in their estimation,
rash, proud, ignorant, without faith, without honour, and
without conscience. Their affections and desires are not
any more just or moderate than their hatred. If they
love any one, he is free from every kind of defect. Every
thing which they desire is just and easy, everything which
they do not desire is unjust and impossible, without their
being able to assign any other reason for all these judg
ments than the passion itself which possesses them ; so
that, though they do not expressly realise to their mind
this reasoning — I love him ; therefore, he is the cleverest
man in the world : I hate him ; therefore, he is nobody ;
— they realise it to a great extent, in their hearts ; and
therefore, we may call sophisms and delusions of the heart
those kinds of errors which consist in transferring our
passion to the objects of our passions, and in judging that
they are what we will or desire that they may be ; which
is without doubt very unreasonable, since our desires can
effect no change in the existence of that which is without
us, and since it is God alone whose will is efficacious
enough to render all things what he would have them to be.

m.

We may reduce to the same illusion of self-love, that of
those who decide everything by a very general and con
venient principle, which is, that they are right, that they
know the truth ; from which it is not difficult to infer that
those who are not of their opinion are deceived, — in fact,
the conclusion is necessary.

The error of these persons springs solely from this, that
the good opinion which they have of their own insight

CHAP. XX.] SELF-LOVE INTEREST PASSION. 2G5

leads them to consider all their thoughts as so clear and
evident, that they imagine the whole world must accept
them as soon as they ai-e known. Hence it is that they
so rarely trouble themselves to furnish proofs, — they sel
dom listen to the opinions of others, they wish all to yield
to their authority, since they never distinguish their autho
rity from reason. They treat with contempt all those who
are not of their opinion, without considering that if others
are not of their opinion, so neither are they of the opinion
of others, and that it is unjust to assume, without proof,
that we are in the right when we attempt to convince
others, who are not of our opinion, simply because they
are persuaded that we are not in the right.

IV.

There are some, again, who have no other ground for
rejecting certain opinions than this amusing reasoning : —
if this were so, I should not be a clever man ; now, I am a
clever man ; therefore, it is not so. This is the main
reason which, for a long time, led to the rejection of some
most useful remedies, and most certain discoveries ; for
those who had not known them previously, fancied that
by admitting them, they would have confessed themselves
to have , been hitherto deceived. "What," said they,
" if the blood circulate, if the food is not carried to the
liver by the messaric veins, if the venous artery carry the
blood to the heart, if the blood rise by the descending hol
low vein, if nature does not abhor a vacuum, if the air be
heavy and have a movement below, I have been ignorant
of many important things in anatomy and in physics.
These things, therefore, cannot be." But, to remedy this
folly, it is also necessary to represent fully to such that
there is very little discredit in being mistaken, and that
they may be accomplished in other things, though they
be not in those which have been recently discovered.

V.

There is, again, nothing more common than to see
people mutually reproaching each other, and accusing one

N

266 SOPHISMS COMMON IN CIVIL LIFE. [PART III.

another — for example, of obstinacy, passion, and chicanery
— when they are of different opinions. There are scarcely
any advocates who do not accuse each other of delaying
the process, and concealing the truth by artifices of speech ;
and thus those who are in the right, and those who are in
the wrong, with almost the same language, make the same
complaints, and attribute to each other the same vices.
This is one of the most injurious things possible in the life
of men, for it throws truth and error, justice and injustice,
into an obscurity so profound, that the Avorld, in general,
cannot distinguish between them ; and hence it happens,
that many attach themselves, by chance and without
knowledge, to one of these parties, and that others con
demn both as being equally wrong.

All this confusion springs, again, from the same malady
which leads each one to take, as a principle, that he is in
the right ; for, from this, it is not difficult to infer, that all
who oppose us are obstinate, since, to be obstinate is not
to submit to the right.

But still, although it be true that these reproaches of
passion, of blindness, and of quibbling, which are very un
just on the part of those who are mistaken, are just and
right on the part of those who are not so ; nevertheless,
since they assume that truth is on the side of him who
makes them, wise and thoughtful persons, who treat of any
contested matter, should avoid using them, before they have
thoroughly established the truth and justice of the cause
which they maintain. They will never then accuse their
adversaries of obstinacy, of rashness, of wanting common
sense, before they have clearly proved this. They will
not say, before they have shown it, that they fall into in
tolerable absurdities and extravagances ; for the others,
on their side, will say the same of them, and thus accom
plish nothing. And thus they will prefer rather to observe
that most equitable rule of St Augustine : — Omittamm ista
communia, quce did ex utraque parte possunt^ licet vere did ex
it tr ague parte non possint.

They will thus be content to defend truth by the wea
pons which are her own, and which falsehood cannot
borrow. These are clear and weighty reasons.

CHAP. XX.] SELF-LOVE INTEREST PASSION. 267

VI.

The mind of man is not only in love with itself, but it
is also naturally jealous, envious of, and ill-disposed to
wards, others. It can scarcely bear that they should have
any advantage, but desires it all for itself ; and as it is an
advantage to know the truth, and furnish men with new
views, a secret desire arises to rob those who do this of
the glory, which often leads men to combat, without reason,
the opinions and inventions of others.

Thus, as self-love often leads us to make these ridiculous
reasonings : It is an opinion which I discovered, it is that
of my order, it is an opinion which is convenient, it is,
therefore, true ; natural ill-will leads us often to make
these others, which are equally absurd : Some one else
said such a thing ; it is, therefore, false : I did not write
that book ; it is, therefore, a bad one.

This is the source of the spirit of contradiction so com
mon amongst men, and which leads them, when they hear
or read anything of another, to pay but little attention to
the reasons which might have persuaded them, and to
think only of those which they think may be offered
against it ; they are always on their guard against truth,
and think only of the means by which it may be repressed
and obscured — in which they are almost invariably success
ful, the fertility of the human mind in false reasons being
inexhaustible.

When this vice is in excess, it constitutes one of the
leading characteristics of the spirit of pedantry, which
rinds its greatest pleasure in quibbling with others on the
pettiest things, and in contradicting everything with a pure
malignity. But it is often more imperceptible and more
concealed ; and AVC may say, indeed, that no one is alto
gether free from it, since it has its root in self-love, which
always lives in men.

The knowledge of this malignant and envious disposi
tion, which dwells deep in the heart of men, shows us that
one of the most important rules which we can observe,
in order to win those to whom we speak from error, and
bring them over to the truth of which we would persuade
them, is to excite their envy and jealousy as little as pos-

2G8 SOPHISMS COMMON IN CIVIL LIFE. [PART III.

sible by speaking of ourselves, and by presenting to them
objects which may engage their attention.

For, since men love scarcely any but themselves, they
cannot bear that another should intrude himself upon them,
and thus throw into shade the main object of their regard.
All that does not refer to themselves is odious and imper
tinent, and they commonly pass from the hatred of the man
to the hatred of his opinions and reasons. Hence, wise
persons avoid as much as possible revealing to others
the advantages which they have, they avoid attracting at
tention to themselves in particular, and seek rather, by
hiding themselves in the crowd, to escape observation, in
order that only the truth which they propose may be seen
in their discourse.

The late M. Pascal, who knew as much of true rhetoric
as any one ever did, carried this rule so far as to maintain
that a well-bred man ought to avoid mentioning himself,
and even to avoid using the words I and me ; and he was
accustomed to say, on this subject, that Christian piety
annihilated the human me, and that human civility con
cealed and suppressed it. This rule, however, is not to be
observed too rigidly, for there are many occasions in which
it would uselessly embarrass us to avoid these words;
but it is always good to keep it in view, to preserve us
from the wretched custom of some individuals, who speak
only of themselves, and who quote themselves continually,
when their opinion is not asked for. This leads those who
hear them to suspect that this constant recurrence to them
selves arises only from a secret pleasure, which leads them
continually to that object of their love, and thus excites in
them, by a natural consequence, a secret aversion to these
people, and towards all that they say. This shows us
that one of the characteristics most unworthy of a sensible
man is that which Montaigne has affected in entertaining
his readers with all his humours, his inclinations, his
fancies, his maladies, his virtues, and his vices, which
could arise only from a weakness of judgment, as well as
a violent love for himself. It is true that he attempted
as far as possible to remove from himself the suspicion of
a low and vulgar vanity, by speaking freely of his defects,
as well as of his good qualities, which has something

CHAP. XX.] SELF-LOVE INTEREST PASSION. 20'J

amiable in it, from the appearance of sincerity ; but it is
easy to see that all that is only a trick and artifice, which
should onlyrender it still more odious. He speaks of his vices
in order that they may be known, not that they may be
detested ; he does not think for a moment that he ought to
be held in less esteem ; he regards them as things very in
different, and rather as creditable than disgraceful ; if he
reveals them it gives him no concern, and he believes that
he will not be, on that account, at all more vile or con
temptible. But when he apprehends that anything will
degrade him at all, he is as careful as any one to conceal it ;
hence, a celebrated author of the present day pleasantly
remarks, that though he takes great pains, without any
occasion, to inform us, in two places of his book, that he
had a page, Avho was an oiFicer of very little use in the
house of a gentleman of six thousand livres a year, he has
not taken the same pains to inform us that he had also a
clerk, having been himself counsellor of the parliament of
Bordeaux. This employment, though very honourable in
itself, did not satisfy the vanity he had of appearing always
with the air of a gentleman and of a cavalier, and as one
unconnected with the brief and gown.

It is, nevertheless, probable, however, that he would not
have concealed this circumstance of his life if he could
have found some marshal of France who had been coun
sellor of Bordeaux, as he has chosen to inform us that he
had been mayor of that town, but only, after having in
formed us that he had succeeded Marshal de Brion in that
office, and had been succeeded by Marshal de Matignon.

But the greatest vice of this author is not that of vanity,
for he is filled with such a multitude of shameful scandals,
and of epicurean and impious maxims, that it is wonderful
that he has been endured so long by every body, and that
there are even men of mind who have not discovered the
poison.

No other proofs are necessary, in order to judge of his
libertinism, than the manner in which he speaks even of
his vices ; for allowing, in many places, that he had been
guilty of a great number of criminal excesses, he declares,
nevertheless, that he did not repent of them at all, and
that if he had to live over again he would live as he had

270 SOPHISMS COMMON IN CIVIL LIFE. [PART III.

done. " As for me," says he, " I cannot desire in general
to be other than I am. I cannot condemn my universal
form, though I may be displeased with it, and pray God
for my entire reformation, and for the pardon of my natural
weakness ; but this I ought not to call repentance any
more than the dissatisfaction I may feel at not being an
angel, or Cato ; my actions are regulated and conformed to
my state and condition ; I cannot be better, and repent
ance does not properly refer to things which are not in
our power. I never expected incongruously to affix the
tail of a philosopher to the head and body of an abandoned
man, or that the meagre end of my life was to disavow
and deny the most beautiful, complete, and largest portion
of the whole. If I had to live over again I would live as
I have done ; I do not lament over the past ; I do not fear
for the future." Awful words, which denote the entire
extinction of all religious feeling, but which are worthy of
him who said, also, in another place : " I plunge myself
headlong blindly into death, as into a dark and silent
abyss, full of a mighty sleep, full of unconsciousness and
lethargy, which engulphs me at once, and overwhelms me
in a moment." And in another place : " Death, which is
only a quarter of an hour's passion, without consequence,
and without injury, does not deserve any special precepts."
Although this digression appears widely removed from
this subject, it belongs to it nevertheless, for this reason
— that there is no book which more fosters that bad cus
tom of speaking of one's self, being occupied with one's
self, and wishing all others to be so too. This wonder
fully corrupts reason, both in ourselves, through the vanity
which always accompanies these discourses, and in others,
by the contempt and aversion which they conceive for us.
Those only may be allowed to speak of themselves who
are men of eminent virtue, and who bear witness by what
means they have become so, so that if they make known
their good actions, it is only to excite others to praise God
for these, or to instruct them ; and if they publish their
faults, it is only to humble themselves before men, and to
deter them from committing these. But, for ordinary per
sons, it is a ridiculous vanity to wish to inform others of
their petty advantages ; and it is insufferable effrontery to

CHAP. XX.] SELF-LOVE — INTEREST PASSION. 271

reveal their excesses to the world without expressing their
sorrow for them, since the last degree of abandonment in
vice is, not to blush for it, and to have no concern or re
pentance on account of it, but to speak of it indifferently
as of anything else ; in which mainly lies the wit of Mon
taigne.

VII.

We may distinguish to some extent, from malignant and
envious contradiction, another kind of disposition not so
bad, but which produces the same faults of reasoning ; this
is the spirit of debate, which is, however, a vice very inju
rious to the mind.

It is not that discussions, generally, can be censured.
We may say, on the contrary, that provided they be rightly
used, there is nothing which contributes more towards
giving us different hints, both for finding the truth, or for
recommending it to others. The movement of the mind,
when it works alone, in the examination of any subject, is
commonly too cold and languid. It needs a certain
warmth to inspire it, and awaken its ideas, and it is com
monly through the various obstacles which we meet with
that we discover wherein the obscurity and the difficulties
of conviction consist, which leads us to endeavour to over
come them.

It is true, however, that just in proportion as this exer
cise is useful, when we employ it aright, and without any
mixture of passion, so, in that proportion, is it dangerous
when we abuse it, and pride ourselves on maintaining our
opinion at whatever cost, and in contradicting that of
others. Nothing can separate us more widely from the
truth, and plunge us into error, than this kind of disposi
tion. We become accustomed, unconsciously, to find reasons
for everything, and to place ourselves above reason by never
yielding to it, which leads us by degrees to hold nothing as
certain, and to confound truth with error, in regarding both
as equally probable. This is why it is so rare a thing for
a question to be determined by discussion ; and why it
scarcely ever happens that two philosophers agree. They
always find replies and rejoinders, since their aim is not to

272 SOPHISMS COMMON IN CIVIL LIFE. [PART III.

avoid error but silence, and since they think it less dis
graceful to remain always in error than to avow that they
were mistaken.

Thus, unless at least we have been accustomed by long
discipline to retain the perfect mastery over ourselves, it is
very difficult not to lose sight of truth in debates, since
there are scarcely any exercises which so much arouse our
passions. What vices have they not excited, says a cele
brated author, being almost always governed by anger ?
We pass first to a hatred of the reasons, and then of the
persons. We learn to dispute only to contradict ; and
each contradicting and being contradicted, it comes to pass
that the result of the debate is the annihilation of truth.
One goes to the east and another to the west — one loses
the principle in dispute, and another wanders amidst a
crowd of details — and after an hour's storm, they know
not what they were discussing. One is above, another
below, and another at the side — one seizes on a word or
similitude — another neither listens to, nor still less under
stands, what his opponent says, and is so engaged with his
own course that he only thinks of following himself, not
you.

There are some, again, who, conscious of their weakness,
fear everything, refuse everything, confuse the discussion
at the onset, or, in the midst of it, become obstinate and
are silent, affecting a proud contempt, or a stupid modesty
of avoiding contention. One, provided only that he is
effective, cares not how he exposes himself — another counts
his words and weighs his reasons — a third relies on his
voice and lungs alone. We see some who conclude against
themselves, and others who weary and bewilder every one
with prefaces and useless digressions. Finally, there are
some who arm themselves with abuse, and make a german
quarrel in order to finish the dispute, when they have been
worsted in argument. These are the common vices of our
debates, which are ingeniously enough represented by this
writer, who, without ever having known the true grandeur
of man, has sufficiently canvassed his defects.

We may hence judge how liable these kinds of confer
ences are to disorder the mind, at least unless we take
great care not only not to fall ourselves first into these

CHAP. XX.] SELF-LOVE INTEREST — PASSION. 273

errors, but also not to follow those who do, and so to go
vern ourselves that we may see them wander without wan
dering ourselves, and without losing the end which we
ought to seek, which is the elucidation of the truth which
is under discussion.

VIII.

We find some persons, again, principally amongst those
who attend at court, who, knowing very well how incon
venient and disagreeable these controversial dispositions
are, adopt an immediately opposite course, which is that
of contradicting nothing, but of praising and approving
everything indifferently. This is what is called complais
ance, which is a disposition more convenient indeed for our
fortune, but very injurious to our judgment, for as the
controversial hold as true the contrary of what is said to
them, the complaisant appear to take as true everything
which is said to them, and this habit corrupts, in the first
place their discourse, and then their minds.

Hence it is that praises are become so common, and are
given so indifferently to every one, that we know not what
to conclude from them. There is not a single preacher in
the ' Gazette,' who is not most eloquent, and who does not
ravish his hearers by the profundity of his knowledge.
All who die are illustrious for piety ; and the pettiest
authors might make books of praises which they re
ceive from their friends ; so that, amidst this profusion
of praises, which are made with such little discernment,
it is matter of wonder that some are found so eager for
them, and who treasure so carefully those which are given
to them.

It is quite impossible that this confusion in the language
should not produce some confusion in the mind, for those
who adopt the habit of praising everything, become accus
tomed also to approve of everything. But though the false
hood were only in the words, and not in the mind, this
would be sufficient to lead those who sincerely love the
truth, to avoid it. It is not necessary to reprove everything
which may be bad, but it is necessary to praise only what
is truly praiseworthy, otherwise we lead those whom we

274 SOPHISMS COMMON IN CIVIL LIFE. [PART III.

praise in this way into error. We help to deceive those
who judge of these persons by these praises ; and we com
mit a wrong against those who truly deserve praises, by giv
ing them equally to those who do not deserve them. Finally,
we destroy all the trustworthiness of language, and con
fuse all ideas and words, by causing them to be no longer
signs of our judgments and thoughts, but simply an out
ward civility which we give to those whom we praise as
we might do a bow, for this is all that we ought to infer
from ordinary praises and compliments.

IX.

Amongst the various ways by which self-love plunges
men into error, or rather strengthens them in it, and pre
vents their escape from it, we must not forget one which
is, without doubt, one of the principal and most common.
This is the engaging to maintain any opinion, to which we
may attach ourselves from other considerations than those
of its truth. For this determination to defend our opinion
leads us no longer to consider whether the reasons we em
ploy are true or false, but whether they will avail to de
fend that which we maintain. We employ all sorts of
reasons, good and bad, in order that there may be some to
suit every one ; and we sometimes proceed even to say
things which we well know to be absolutely false, if they
will contribute to the end which we seek. The following
are some examples : —

An intelligent man would hardly ever suspect Montaigne
of having believed all the dreams of judicial astrology.
Nevertheless, when he needs them for the purpose of
foolishly degrading mankind, he employs them as good
reasons. " When we consider," says he, " the dominion
and power which these bodies have, not only on our lives,
and on the state of our fortune, but also on our inclina
tions, which are governed, driven, and disturbed, according
to their influences, how can we deprive them of a soul, of
life, and of discourse?"

Does he wish to destroy the advantage which men have
over beasts 1 He relates to us absurd stories, whose ex
travagance he knew better than any one, and derives from

CHAP. XX.] SELF-LOVE INTEREST PASSION. 27.r)

them these still more absurd conclusions : — " There have
been," says he, " some who boasted that they understood
the language of brutes, as Apollonius Thyaneus, Melampus,
Tiresias, Thales, and others ; and since Avhat the cosmo-
graphers say is true, that there are some nations which
receive a dog as their king, they must give a certain inter
pretation to his voice and movements."

We might conclude, for the same reason, that when
Caligula made his horse consul, the orders which he gave
in the discharge of that office must have been clearly
understood. But AVC should do wrong in accusing Mon
taigne of this bad consequence ; his design was not to
speak reasonably, but to gather together a confused mass
of everything which might be said against men, which is,
however, a vice utterly opposed to the justness of mind
and sincerity of a good man.

Who, again, would tolerate this other reasoning of the
same author, on the subject of the auguries which the
pagans made from the flight of birds, and which the wisest
amongst them derided ? " Amongst all the predictions of
time past," says he, " the most ancient, and the most cer
tain, were those which were derived from the flight of
birds. We have nothing of the like kind — nothing so
admirable ; that rule, that order of the moving of the
wing, through which the consequences of things to come
were obtained, must certainly have been directed by some
excellent means to so noble an operation ; for it is insuffi
cient to attribute so great an effect to some natural ordi
nance, without the intelligence, agreement, or discourse of
the agent which produces it; and such an opinion is evi
dently false."

Is it not a delightful thing to see a man who holds that
nothing is either evidently true or evidently false, in a
treatise expressly designed to establish Pyrrhonism, and
to destroy evidence and certainty, deliver to us seriously
these dreams as certain truths, and speak of the contrary
opinion as evidently false ? But he is amusing himself at
our expense when he speaks in this way, and he is without
excuse in thus sporting with his readers, by telling them
things which he does not, and could not without absurdity,
believe.

276 SOPHISMS COMMON IN CIVIL LIFE. [PART III.

He was, without doubt, as good a philosopher as Virgil,
who does not ascribe to any intelligence in the birds even
those periodical changes which we observe in their move
ment according to the difference of the air, from which we
may derive some conjecture as to rain and fine weather.
This may be seen in these admirable verses from the
Georgics : —

" Non equidem credo quia sit divinitus illis
Ingenium, aut rerum fato prudentia major;
Verum ubi tempestas et coeli mobilis humor.
Mutavere vias, et Jupiter humidus austris
Deusat erant qu?e rara modo, et quse densa relaxat ;
Vertuntur species animorum, ut corpora motus
Nunc hos, nuiic alios : dum nubila ventus agebat;
Concipiant, hinc ille avium concentus in agris,
Et Isetae pecudes, et ovantes gutture corvi."

But these mistakes being voluntary, all that is necessary
to avoid them is a little good faith. The most common,
and the most dangerous, are those of which we are not
conscious, because the engagement into which we have
entered to defend an opinion disturbs the view of the mind,
and leads it to take as true that which contributes to its
end. The only remedy which can be applied to these is
to have no end but truth, and to examine reasonings with
so much care, that even prejudice shall not be able to mis
lead us.

OF THE FALSE REASONINGS WHICH ARISE FROM OBJECTS
THEMSELVES.

We have already noticed that we ought not to separate
the inward causes of our errors from those which are de
rived from objects, which may be called the outward, be
cause the false appearance of these objects would not be
capable of leading us into error, if the will did not hurry
the mind into forming a precipitate judgment, when it is
not as yet sufficiently enlightened.

Since, however, it cannot exert this power over the
understanding in things perfectly evident, it is plain that
the obscurity of the objects contributes somewhat to our
mistakes ; and, indeed, there are often cases in which the

CHAP. XX.] THOSE WHICH ARISE FROM OBJECTS. 277

passion which leads us to reason ill is almost imperceptible.
Hence it is useful to consider separately those illusions
which arise principally from the things themselves : —

I.

It is a false and impious opinion, that truth is so like to
falsehood, and virtue to vice, that it is impossible to dis
tinguish between them ; but it is true that, in the majority
of cases, there is a mixture of truth and error, of virtue
and vice, of perfection and imperfection, and that this
mixture is one of the most ordinary sources of the false
judgments of men.

For it is through this deceptive mixture that the good
qualities of those whom we respect lead us to approve of
their errors, and that the defects of those whom we do not
esteem lead us to condemn what is good in them, since we
do not consider that the most imperfect are not so in
everything, and that God leaves in the best imperfections,
which, being the remains of human infirmity, ought not to
be the objects of our respect or imitation.

The reason of this is, that men rarely consider things in
detail; they judge only according to their strongest im
pression, and perceive only what strikes them most : thus,
when they perceive a good deal of truth in a discourse,
they do not notice the errors which are mixed with it ;
and, on the contrary, when the truths are mingled with
many errors, they pay attention only to the errors, — the
strong bears away the weak, and the most vivid impression
effaces that which is more obscure.

It is, however, a manifest injustice to judge in this way.
There can be no possible reason for rejecting reason, and
truth is not less truth for being mixed with error. It does
not belong to men, although men may propound it. Thus,
though men, by reason of their errors, may deserve to be
condemned, the truth which they advance ought not to be
rejected.

Thus justice and truth require, that in all things which
are thus made up of good and evil, we distinguish between
them ; and in this wise separation it is that mental pre
cision mainly appears. Hence the fathers of the church

2 78 SOPHISMS COMMON IN CIVIL LIFE. [PART III.

have taken from pagan books very excellent things for
their morals, and thus St Augustine has not scrupled to
borrow from an heretical Donatist seven rules for inter
preting Scripture.

Reason obliges us, when we can, to make this distinc
tion ; but since we have not always time to examine in
detail the good and evil that may be in everything, it is
right, in such circumstances, to give to them the name
which they deserve from their preponderating element.
Thus we ought to say that a man is a good philosopher
who commonly reasons well, and that a book is a good
book which has notoriously more of good than evil in it.

Men, however, are very much deceived in these general
judgments ; for they often praise and blame things from
the consideration only of what is least important in them,
— want of penetration leading them not to discover what
is most important, when it is not the most striking : thus,
although those who are wise judges in painting value in
finitely more design than colour, or delicacy of touch, the
ignorant are, nevertheless, more impressed by a painting
whose colours are bright and vivid, than by another more
sober in colour, however admirable in design.

It must, however, be confessed, that false judgments
are not so common in the arts, since those who know
nothing about them defer more readily to the opinion
of those who are well informed ; but they are most fre
quent in those things which lie within the jurisdiction of
the people, and of which the world claims the liberty of
judging, such as eloquence.

We call, for example, a preacher eloquent, when his
periods are well turned, and when he uses no inelegant
words ; and from this M. Vaugelas says, in one place, that
a bad Avord does a preacher or an advocate more harm
than a bad reasoning. We must believe that this is simply
a truth of fact which he relates, and not an opinion which
he supports. It is true that we find people who judge in
this way, but it is true also that there is nothing more
unreasonable than these judgments ; for the purity of
language, and the multitude of figures, are but to eloquence
what the colouring is to a painting — that is to say, only its
lower and more sensuous part ; but the most important

CHAP. XX.] THOSE WHICH ARISE FROM OBJECTS. 279

part consists in conceiving things forcibly, and in express
ing them so that we may convey to the minds of the
hearers a bright and vivid image, which shall not only
convey these things in an abstract form, but with the
emotions, also, with which we conceive them ; and this we
may find in men of inelegant speech and unbalanced
periods, while we meet with it rarely in those who pay so
much attention to words and embellishments, since this
care distracts their attention from things, and weakens the
vigour of their thoughts, — as painters remark, that those
who excel in colours do not commonly excel in design —
the mind not being capable of this double application, and
attention to the one injuring the other.

"We may say, in general, that the world values most
things by the exterior alone, since we find scarcely any
who penetrate to the interior and to the bottom of them ;
everything is judged according to the fashion, and un
happy are those who are not in favour. Such a one is
clever, intelligent, solid, as much as you will, but he does
not speak fluently, and cannot turn a compliment well ; he
may reckon on being little esteemed through the whole of
his life by the generality of the world, and on seeing a
multitude of insignificant minds preferred before him. It
is no great evil not to have the reputation Avhich we merit,
but it is a vast one to follow these false judgments, and to
judge of things only superficially; and this we are bound,
as far as possible, to avoid.

II.

Amongst the causes which lead us into error, by a false
lustre, which prevents our recognising it, we may justly
reckon a certain grand and pompous eloquence, which
Cicero calls abundantem sonantibus verbis uberibusque senten-
tiis ; for it is wonderful how sweetly a false reasoning
flows in at the close of a period which well fits the ear, or
of a figure which surprises us by its novelty, and in the
contemplation of which Ave are delighted.

These ornaments not only veil from our view the false
hoods which mingle with discourse, but they insensibly
engender them, since it often happens that they are neces-

280 SOPHISMS COMMON IN CIVIL LIFE. [PART III.

sary to the completion of the period or the figure. Thus,
when we hear an orator commencing a long gradation, or
an antithesis of many members, we have reason to be on
our guard, since it rarely happens that he finishes it with
out exaggerating the truth, in order to accommodate it to
the figure. He commonly disposes of it as we do the
stones of a building, or the metal of a statue : he cuts it,
lengthens it, narrows it, disguises it, as he thinks fit, in
order to adapt it to that vain work of words which he
wishes to make.

How many false thoughts has the desire of making a
good point produced? How many have been led into
falsehood for the sake of a rhyme ? How many foolish
things have certain Italian authors been led to write,
through the affectation of using only Ciceronian words,
and of what is called pure Latinity? Who could help
smiling to hear Benibo say that a pope had been elected
by the favour of the immortal gods — Deorum immortatium
beneficiis? There are poets, even, who imagine that the
essence of poetry consists in the introduction of pagan
divinities ; and a German poet, a good versifier enough,
though not a very judicious writer, having been justly
reproached by Francis Picus Mirandola with having in
troduced into a poem, where he describes the wars of
Christians against Christians, all the divinities of paganism,
and having mixed up Apollo, Diana, and Mercury, with
the pope, the electors, and the emperor, distinctly main
tained that, without this, it would not have been a poem,
— in proof of which he alleged this strange reason, that
the poems of Hesiod, of Homer, and of Virgil, are full of
the names and the fables of these gods ; whence he con
cluded that he might be allowed to do the same.

These bad reasonings are often imperceptible to those
who make them, and deceive them first. They are deaf
ened by the sound of their own words, dazzled with the
lustre of their figures ; and the grandeur of certain words
attaches them unconsciously to thoughts of little solidity,
which they would doubtless have rejected had they exer
cised a little reflection.

It is probable, for instance, that it was the word vestal
which pleased an author of our time, and which led him

CHAP. XX.] THOSE WHICH ARISE FllOM OBJECTS. 281

to say to a young lady, to prevent her from being ashamed
of knowing Latin, that she need not blush to speak a
language which had been spoken by the vestals. For, if
he had considered this thought, he would have seen that
he might as justly have said to that lady that she ought to
blush to speak a language which had been formerly spoken
by the courtezans of Rome, who were far more numerous than
the vestals ; or that she ought to blush to speak any other
language than that of her own country, since the ancient
vestals spoke only their natural language. All these rea
sonings, which are worth nothing, are as good as that of
this author ; and the truth is, that the vestals have nothing
to do with justifying or condemning maidens who learn
Latin.

The false reasonings of this kind, which are met with
continually in the writings of those who most affect elo
quence, show us how necessary it is for the majority of
those who write or speak to be thoroughly convinced of
this excellent rule, — that there is not/ti/ty beautiful except that
which is true ; which would take away from discourse a
multitude of vain ornaments and false thoughts. It is
true that this precision renders the style more dry, and less
pompous ; but it also renders it clearer, more vigorous,
more serious, and more worthy of an honourable man.
The impression which it makes is less strong, but much
more lasting ; whereas that produced by these rounded
periods is so transient, that it passes away almost as soon
as we have heard them.

III.

It is a very common defect amongst men to judge rashly
of the actions and intentions of others, and they almost al
ways fall into it by a bad reasoning, through which, in not
recognising with sufficient clearness all the causes which
might produce any effect, they attribute that effect definitely
to one cause, when it may have been produced by many
others ; or, again, suppose that a cause, which has accident
ally, when united with many circumstances, produced an
effect on one occasion, must do so on all occasions.

A man of learning is found to be of the same opinion with

282 SOPHISMS COMMON IN CIVIL LIFE. [PART III.

a heretic, in a matter of criticism, independent of religious
controversies : A malicious adversary concludes from this
that he is favourable to heretics ; but he concludes this
rashly and maliciously, since it is perhaps reason and truth
which have led him to adopt that opinion.

A writer may speak with some strength against an
opinion which he believes to be dangerous : he will, from
this, be accused of hatred and animosity against the
authors who have advanced it ; but he will be so unjustly
and rashly, since this earnestness may arise from zeal for
the truth, just as well as from hatred of the men who op
pose it.

A man is the friend of a vicious man : it is, therefore,
concluded that he approves of his conduct, and is a par
taker in his crimes. This does not follow, — perhaps he
knows nothing about them, — perhaps he has no part in
them.

We fail to render true civility to those to whom it is
due : we are said to be proud and insolent, — but this was
perhaps only an inadvertence or simple forgetfulness. All
exterior things are but equivocal signs, that is to say, signs
which may signify many things, and we judge rashly when
we determine this sign to mean a particular thing, without
having any special reason for doing so. Silence is some
times a sign of modesty and wisdom, and sometimes of
stupidity. Slowness sometimes indicates prudence, and
sometimes heaviness of mind. Change is sometimes a sign
of inconstancy, and sometimes of sincerity. Thus it is bad
reasoning to conclude that a man is inconstant, simply
from the fact that he has changed his opinion ; for he may
have had good reason for changing it.

rv.

The false inductions by which general propositions are
derived from some particular experiences, constitute one
of the most common sources of the false reasonings of men.
Three or four examples are enough to make a maxim and
a common place, which they then employ as a principle for
deciding all things.

There are many maladies hidden from the most skilful

CHAP XX.] THOSE WHICH ARISE FROM OBJECTS. 283

physicians, and remedies often do not succeed : rash minds,
hence, conclude, that medicine is absolutely useless, and
only a craft of charlatans.

There are light and loose women : this is sufficient for
the jealous to conceive unjust suspicions against the most
virtuous, and for licentious writers to condemn all univer
sally.

There are some persons who hide great vices under an
appearance of piety ; libertines conclude from this that all
devotion is no better than hypocrisy.

There are some things obscure and hidden, and we are
often grossly deceived : all things are obscure and uncer
tain, say the ancient and modern Pyrrhonists, and we can
not know the truth of anything with certainty.

There is a want of equality in some of the actions of
men, and this is enough to constitute a common place,
from which none are exempt. " Reason/' say they, " is
so weak and blind, that there is nothing so evidently clear
as to be clear enough for it ; the easy and the hard are both
;ilike to it ; all subjects are equal, and nature, in general,
disclaims its jurisdiction. We only think what we will in
the very moment in which we will it ; — we will nothing
freely, nothing absolutely, nothing constantly."

Most people set forth the defects or good qualities of
others, only by general and extreme propositions. From
some partial actions we infer a habit : from three or four
faults we conclude a custom ; and what happens once a
month or once a year, happens every day, at every hour,
and every moment, in the discourses of men, so little pains
do they take to observe in them the limits of truth and
justice.

V.

It is a weakness and injustice which we often condemn,
but which we rarely avoid, to judge of purposes by the
event, and to reckon those who had taken a prudent re
solution according to the circumstances, so far as they
could see them, guilty of all the evil consequences which
may have happened therefrom, either simply through acci
dent, or through the malice of others who had thwarted it,

284 SOPHISMS COMMON IN CIVIL LIFE. [PART III.

or through some other circumstances which it was impos
sible for them to foresee.

Men not only love to be fortunate as much as to be wise,
but they make no distinction between the fortunate and
the wise, nor between the unfortunate and the guilty.
This distinction is too subtile for them. We are ingenious
in finding out the faults which we imagine have produced
the want of success ; and as astrologers, when they know
a given event, fail not to discover the aspect of the stars
which produced it, so also we never fail to find, after dis
graces and misfortune, that those who have met with them
have deserved them by some imprudence. He is unsuc
cessful, therefore he is in fault. In this way the world
reasons, and in this way it has always reasoned, because
there has always been little equity in the judgments of
men, and because, not knowing the true causes of things,
they substitute others according to the event, by praising
those who are successful, and blaming those who are not.

VI.

But there are no false reasonings more common amongst
men than those into which they fall, either by judging
rashly of the truth of things from some authority insuffi
cient to assure them of it, or by deciding the inward essence
by the outward manner. We call the former the sophism
of authority, the latter the sophism of the manner.

To understand how common these are, it is only neces
sary to consider that the majority of men are determined
to believe one opinion rather than another, not by any solid
and essential reasons which might lead them to know the
truth, but by certain exterior and foreign marks which are
more consonant to, or which they judge to be consonant
to, truth, than to falsehood.

The reason of this is, that the interior truth of things
is often deeply hidden ; that the minds of men are com
monly feeble arid dark, full of clouds and false light, while
their outward marks of truth are clear and sensible ; so
that, as men naturally incline to that which is easiest, they
almost always range themselves on the side where they see
those exterior marks of truth which are readily discovered.

CHAP. XX.] THOSE WHICH ARISE FROM OBJECTS. 285

These may be reduced to two principles, — the authority
of him who propounds the thing, and the manner in which
it is propounded. And these two ways of persuading are
so powerful that they carry away almost all minds.

Wherefore God, who willed that the sure knowledge
of the mysteries of faith might be attained by the sim
plest of the faithful, has had the condescension to accom
modate himself to this weakness of the spirit of man, in
not making this to depend on the particular examination
of all the points which are proposed to faith ; but in giving
us, as the certain rule of truth, the authority of the church
universal, which proposes them, \vhich, being clear and
evident, relieves the mind of the perplexities which neces
sarily arise from the particular discussion of these mysteries.

Thus, in matters of faith, the authority of the church
universal is entirely decisive ; and so far is it from being
possible that it should be liable to error, that we fall into
it only when wandering from its authority, and refusing to
submit ourselves to it.

We may derive, moreover, convincingarguments in matters
of religion from the manner in which they are advanced.
When we see, for example, in different ages of the church,
and principally in the last, men who endeavour to propa
gate their opinions by bloodshed and the sword ; when we
see them arm themselves against the church by schism,
against temporal powers by revolt ; when we see people
without the common commission, without miracles, without
any external marks of piety, and with the plain marks rather
of licentiousness, undertake to change the faith and disci
pline of the church in so criminal a manner, it is more
than sufficient to make reasonable men reject them, and to
prevent the most ignorant from listening to them.

But in those things, the knowledge of which is not ab
solutely necessary, and which God has left more to the
discernment of the reason of each one in particular, the
authority and the manner are not so important, and they
often lead many to form judgments contrary to the truth.

We do not undertake to give here the rules and the
precise limits of the respect which is due to authority in
human things, we simply indicate some gross faults which
are committed in this matter.

286 SOPHISMS COMMON IN CIVIL LIFE. [PART III.

We often regard only the number of the witnesses,
without at all considering whether the number increases
the probability of their having discovered the truth, which
is, however, unreasonable ; for, as an author of our time
has wisely remarked, in difficult things, which each must
discover for himself, it is more likely that a single per
son will discover the truth than that many will. Thus
the following is not a valid inference : this opinion is
held by the majority of philosophers ; it is, therefore, the
truest.

We are often persuaded, by certain qualities which have
no connection with the truth, of the things which we
examine. Thus there are a number of people who trust
implicitly to those who are older, and who have had more
experience, even in those things which do not depend on
age or experience, but on the clearness of the mind.

Piety, wisdom, moderation, are, without doubt, the most
estimable qualities in the world, and they ought to give
great authority to those who possess them in those things
which depend on piety or sincerity, and even on the know
ledge of God, for it is most probable that God commu
nicates more to those who serve him more purely ; but
there are a multitude of things which depend only on
human intelligence, experience, and penetration, and, in
these things, those who have the superiority in intel
lect and in study, deserve to be relied on more than
others. The contrary, however, often happens, and many
reckon it best to follow, even in these things, the most
devout men.

This arises, in part, from the fact that these advantages
of mind are not so obvious as the external decorum which
appears in pious persons, and in part, also, from the fact
that men do not like to make these distinctions. Discri
mination perplexes them ; they will have all or nothing.
If th.?y trust to a man in one thing, they will trust to him
in everything ; if they do not in one, they will not in any ;
they love short, plain, and easy ways. But this disposi
tion, though common, is, nevertheless, contrary to reason,
which shows us that the same persons are not to be
trusted to in anything, because they are not distinguished
in anything ; and that it is bad reasoning to conclude — he

CHAP. XX.] THOSE WHICH ARISE PROM OBJECTS. 287

is a serious man, therefore he is intelligent and clever in
everything.

VII.

It is true, indeed, that if any errors are pardonable, those
into which we fall through our excessive deference to the
opinion of good men, are among the number. But there is
a delusion much more absurd in itself, but which is, never
theless, very common, that, namely, of believing that a man
speaks the truth because he is a man of birth, of fortune,
or high in office.

Not that any formally make these kinds of reasonings —
he has a hundred thousand livres a year ; therefore, he
possesses judgment : he is of high birth ; therefore, what he
advances must be true : he is a poor man ; therefore, he is
wrong. Nevertheless, something of this kind passes through
the minds of the majority, and, unconsciously, bears away
their judgment.

Let the same thing be proposed by a man of quality,
and by one of no distinction, and it will often be found
that we approve of it in the mouth of the former, when we
scarcely condescend to listen to it in that of the latter.
Scripture designed to teach us this disposition of men, in
that perfect representation which is given of it in the book
of Ecclesiasticus.* " AVhen the rich man speaks, all are
silent, and his words are raised to the skies ; if the poor
man speaks, the inquiry is, Who is this ? " Dives locutus
est, et omncs tacuerunt, et verbum illius usque ad nubes perdu-
cent ; pauper locutus est, et dicunt, Quis cst hie ?

It is certain that complaisance and flattery have much
to do with the approbation which is bestowed on the ac
tions and words of people of quality ; as also that they
often gain this by a certain outward grace, and by a noble,
free, and natural bearing, which is sometimes so distinctive
that it is almost impossible for it to be imitated by those
who are of low birth. It is certain, also, that there are many
who approve of everything which is done and said by the
great, through an inward abasement of soul, who bend

* Eccles. xiii. 23.

288 SOPHISMS COMMON IN CIVIL LIFE. [PART III.

under the weight of grandeur, and whose sight is not
strong enough to bear its lustre ; as, indeed, that the out
ward pomp which environs them always imposes a Hi •>,
and makes some impression on the strongest minds.

This illusion springs from the corruption of the hei
of man, who, having a strong passion for honours ai.
pleasures, necessarily conceives a great affection for the
means by which these honours and pleasures are obtained.
The love which we have for all those things which are
valued by the world, makes us judge those happy who pos
sess them, and, in thus judging them happy, we place them
above ourselves, and regard them as eminent and exalted
persons. This habit of regarding them with respect passes
insensibly from their fortune to their mind. Men do not
commonly do things by halves ; we, therefore, give them
minds as exalted as their rank — we submit to their opinions;
and this is the reason of the credit which they commonly
obtain in the affairs which they manage.

But this illusion is still stronger in the great themselves,
when they have not laboured to correct the impression
which their fortune naturally makes on their minds, than it
is in their inferiors. Some derive from their estate and
riches a reason for maintaining that these opinions ought
to prevail over those who are beneath them. They cannot
bear that those people whom they regard with contempt
should pretend to have as much judgment and reason
as themselves, and this makes them so impatient of the
least contradiction. All this springs from the same source,
that is, from the false ideas which they have of their
grandeur, nobility, and wealth. Instead of considering
them as things altogether foreign from their character,
which do not prevent them at all from being perfectly
equal to all the rest of men, both in mind and body, and
which do not prevent their judgment even from being as
weak and as liable to be deceived as that of all others,
they, in some sort, incorporate with their very essence, all
these qualities of grand, noble, rich, master, lord, prince,
— they exaggerate their idea with these, and never repre
sent themselves to themselves without all their titles, their
equipage, and their train.

They are accustomed from their infancy to consider

CHAP. XX.] THOSE WHICH ARISE FROM OBJECTS.

themselves as of a different species from other men — they
never mingle in imagination with the mass of human
kind ; they are, in their own eyes, always counts or dukes,
and never simply men. Thus they shape themselves a
soul and judgment according to the measure of their for
tune, and believe themselves as much above others in
mind as they are above them in birth and fortune.

The folly of the human mind is such, that there is
nothing which may not serve to aggrandize the idea which
it has of itself. A beautiful horse, grand clothes, a long
beard, make men consider themselves more clever; and
there are few who do not think more of themselves on
horseback or in a coach than on foot. It is easy to con
vince everybody that there is nothing more ridiculous than
these judgments, but it is very difficult to guard entirely
against the secret impression which these outward things
make upon the mind. All that we can do is to accustom
ourselves as much as possible to give no influence at all to
those qualities which cannot contribute towards finding the
truth, and to give it even to those which do thus contri
bute only so far as they really contribute to it. Age,
knowledge, study, experience, mind, energy, memory, ac
curacy, labour, avail to find the truth of hidden things,
and these qualities, therefore, deserve to be respected ; but
it is always necessary to weigh with care, and then to make
a comparison with the opposite reasons ; for, from separate
individual things we can conclude nothing with certainty,
since there are very false opinions which have been
sanctioned by men of great mental power, who possessed
these qualities to a great extent.

VIII.

There is something still more deceptive in the mistakes
which arise from the manner, for we are naturally led to
believe that a man possesses judgment when he speaks
with grace, with ease, with gravity, with moderation, and
with gentleness ; and, on the contrary, that a man is in the
wrong when he speaks harshly, or manifests anything of
passion, acrimony, or presumption, in his actions and words.

Nevertheless, if we judge of the essence of things by

0

290 SOPHISMS COMMON IN CIVIL LIFE. [PART III.

these outward and sensible appearances, we must be often
deceived ; for there are many people who utter follies
gravely and modestly; and others, on the contrary, who,
being naturally of a quick temper, or under the in
fluence even of some passion, which appears in their
countenance or their words, have, nevertheless, the truth on
their side. There are some men of very moderate capacity,
and very superficial, who, from having been nourished at
court, where the art of pleasing is studied and practised
better than anywhere else, have very agreeable manners, by
means of which they render many false judgments accep
table ; and there are others, on the contrary, who, having
nothing outward to recommend them, have, nevertheless,
a great and solid mind within. There are some who
speak better than they think, and others who think better
than they speak. Thus reason regards those who possess
it, judging not by these outward things, and does not hesitate
to yield to the truth, not only when it is proposed in ways
that are offensive and disagreeable, but even when it is
mingled with much of falsehood, for the same person may
speak truly in one thing, and falsely in another ; may be
right in one thing, and wrong in another.

It is necessary, therefore, to consider each thing sepa
rately, that is to say, we must judge of the manner by the
manner, and the matter by the matter, and not the matter
by the manner, nor the manner by the matter. A man
does wrong to speak with anger, and he does right to speak
the truth ; and, on the contrary, another is right in speak
ing calmly and civilly, and he is wrong in advancing
falsehoods.

But as it is reasonable to be on our guard against con
cluding that a thing is true or false, because it is proposed
in such a way, it is right, also, that those who wish to
persuade others of any truth which they have discovered,
should study to clothe it in the garb most suitable for
making it acceptable, and to avoid those revolting ways of
stating it, which only lead to its rejection.

They ought to remember that when we seek to move the
minds of people, it is a small thing that we have right on
our side ; and it is a great evil to have only right, and not
to have also that which is necessary for making it relished.

CHAP XX.] THOSE WHICH ARISE FROM OBJECTS. 291

If they seriously honour the truth, they ought not to dis
honour it by covering it with the marks of falsehood and
deceit ; and if they love it sincerely, they ought not to at
tach to it the hatred and aversion of men, by the offensive
way in which they propound it. It is the most important,
as well as the most useful, precept of rhetoric, that it be
hoves us to govern the spirit as well as the words ; for al
though it is a different thing to be wrong in the manner
from being wrong in the matter, the faults, nevertheless,
of the manner are often greater and more important than
those of the matter.

In reality, all these fiery, presumptuous, bitter, obstinate,
passionate manners, always spring from some disorder of
the mind, which is often more serious than the defect of
intelligence and of knowledge, which we reprehend in
others ; and it is, indeed, always unjust to seek to persuade
men in this way ; for it is very right that we should lead
them to the truth when we know it ; but it is wrong to
compel others to take, as true, everything that we believe,
and to defer to our authority alone. We do this, however,
when we propose the truth in this offensive manner. For
the way of speaking generally enters into the mind before
the reasons, since the mind is more prompt to notice the
manner of the speaker than it is to comprehend the solidity
of his proofs, which are often, indeed, not comprehended at
all. Now the manner of the discourse being thus separat
ed from the proofs, marks only the authority which he
who speaks arrogates to himself; so that if he is bitter and
imperious, he necessarily revolts the minds of others, since
he appears to wish to gain, by authority, and by a kind of
tyranny, that which ought only to be obtained by persua
sion and reason.

This injustice is still greater when we employ these
offensive ways in combating common and received opinions;
for the judgment of an individual may indeed be preferred
to that of many when it is more correct, but an individual
ought never to maintain that his authority should prevail
against that of all others.

Thus, not only modesty and prudence, but justice itself,
obliges us to assume a modest air when we combat com
mon opinions or established authority, otherwise we cannot

292 SOPHISMS COMMON IN CIVIL LIFE. [PART III.

escape the injustice of opposing the authority of an indi
vidual to an authority either public, or greater, and more
widely established than our own. We cannot exercise
too much moderation when we seek to disturb the position
of a received opinion or of an ancient faith. This is so
true, that St Augustine extended it even to religious truths,
having given this excellent rule to all those who have to
instruct others : —

" Observe," says he, " in what way the wise and reli
gious catholics taught that which they had to communicate
to others. If they were things common and authorised, they
propounded them in a manner full of assurance, and free
from every trace of doubt by being accompanied with the
greatest possible gentleness ; but if they were extraordinary
things, although they themselves very clearly recognised
their truth, they still proposed them rather as doubts and
as questions to be examined, than as dogmas and fixed de
cisions, in order to accommodate themselves in this to
the weakness of those who heard them." That if a truth
is so high that it is above the strength of those to whom
it is spoken, they prefer rather to keep it back for a while,
in order to give time for growth, and for becoming capable
of receiving it, than to make it known to them in that state
of weakness in which it would have overwhelmed them.

FOURTH PART.

OF METHOD.

IT remains that we explain the last part of logic — that re
lating to method — which is, without doubt, one of the most
useful and most important. We have thought it right to
unite with it what belongs to demonstration, because this
does not commonly consist of a single argument, but of a
series of several reasonings, by which we incontrovertibly
prove some truth ; and, moreover, because, in order to de
monstrate well, it is indeed of little avail to know the
rules of syllogism, which we rarely transgress, while it is
of the first importance to arrange our thoughts clearly, and
to avail ourselves of those which are clear and evident,
to penetrate into what may appear more obscure.

And since demonstration has knowledge for its end, it
is necessary first to say something of it.

CHAPTER I.

OF KNOWLEDGE — THAT THERE IS SUCH A THING. — THAT
THE THINGS WHICH WE KNOW BY THE MIND ARE MORK
CERTAIN THAN THOSE WHICH WE KNOW BY THE SENSES.

THAT THERE ARE THINGS WHICH THE HUMAN MIND IS

INCAPABLE OF KNOWING. THE USEFUL ACCOUNT TO

WHICH WE MAY TURN THIS NECESSARY IGNORANCE.

IF, when we consider any maxim, we recognise the truth
of it in itself, and by an evidence which we perceive with-

294 KNOWLEDGE. [PART IV.

out the aid of any other reason, this kind of knowledge is
called intelligence ; and it is thus that we know first prin
ciples.

But if it is not convincing of itself, some other motive is
necessary to render it so, and this motive is either authority
or reason. If it is authority which leads the mind to embrace
what is proposed to it, this is what is called faith. If it is
reason, then either this reason does not produce complete
conviction, but leaves still some doubt, and this acqui
escence of the mind, accompanied with doubt, is what is
called opinion.

Or this reason produces complete conviction ; and then,
either it is clear only in appearance, and requires attention,
and the persuasion which it produces is an error, if it be
really false ; or, at least, a rash judgment, if, being true in
itself, we, nevertheless, had not sufficient reason for be
lieving it to be true.

But if this reason is not only apparent, but weighty and
true, which we recognise by a longer and more minute
attention, by a stronger persuasion, and by a quality of
clearness, which is more vivid and penetrating, than the
conviction which this reason produces,- is called knowledge,
in relation to which many questions arise.

The first is — Whether there be such a thing ? that is
to say, whether we have cognitions founded on clear and
certain reasons, or, in general, whether we have clear and
certain cognitions, for this question relates as much to
intelligence as to knowledge.

There are some philosophers who have made denying
their profession, and who have even established on that
foundation the whole of their philosophy ; and amongst
these philosophers some are satisfied with denying cer
tainty, admitting, at the same time, probability, and these
are the new Academics ; the others, who are the Pyr-
rhonists, have denied even this probability, and have main
tained that all things are equally obscure and uncertain.

But the truth is, that all these opinions, which have
made so much noise in the world, have never existed any
where, save in discourses, disputes, or writings, and no
one has ever been seriously convinced of them. They
were only the sport and amusement of unoccupied and in-

CHAP. I.] THERE IS SUCH A THING. 295

genious persons ; but never the feelings of which they
were inwardly and deeply conscious, and by which they
endeavoured to conduct their life. Hence the best means
of convincing these philosophers would be to refer them
to their conscience and good faith, and to require from
them, whether, after all these discourses, in which they had
laboured to prove that it is impossible to distinguish sleep
from waking, or madness from sound mindedness, they were
not persuaded, despite their argument, that they did not
sleep, and were of a sound mind. And if they had had
any sincerity, they would have denied all their vain sub-
tilties, by avowing freely that they had never been able
to believe these things when they had tried to do so.

And if any one were found who could entertain a doubt
as to whether he were awake or sane, or able even to
believe that the existence of all external things was un
certain, — being in doubt as to the existence of a sun, a
moon, or of matter, — no one could, however, be found
to doubt, as St Augustine says, that he is, that he thinks,
that he lives. For whether he were asleep or awake,
whether he were of a diseased or sound mind, whether he
were deceived or not deceived, he is at all events certain,
inasmuch as he thinks, that he exists, and that he lives ;
since it is impossible to separate being and life from
thought, and to believe that what thinks neither exists nor
lives? And from this clear, certain, and indubitable
knowledge, he may form a rule for accepting as true all
thoughts which he may find as clear as this one appears
to be.

It is equally impossible to doubt our perceptions when
we separate1 them from their objects. Thus, whether there
be such things as the sun and the earth or not, I am cer
tain that I imagine 1 see them. I am certain that I doubt
when I doubt, — that I believe I see, when I believe I see,
— that I believe I hear, when I believe I hear, and so of
the rest. So that, restricting ourselves to the mind alone,
and considering its modifications, we find a vast number of
clear cognitions, whose truth it is impossible to doubt.

This consideration may enable us to decide another
question which has arisen in relation to this subject, — to
wit, whether the things which we know only through

296 KNOWLEDGE. [PART IV.

the mind ai*e more or less certain than those which we
know through the senses? For it is clear from what we
have said above, that we are more assured of those per
ceptions and ideas which we discover only by a mental re
flection, than we are of any of the objects of sense. We
may say further, that while the senses do not always
deceive us in the report which they give, our assurance,
nevei'theless, that they do not deceive, arises, not from the
senses themselves, but from a reflection of the mind, through
which we discern when we ought to believe, and when we
ought not to believe, the senses.

And hence it must be confessed that St Augustine had
good ground to maintain, after Plato, that the determina
tion of truth, and the rule for its discernment, belong not
to the senses, but to the mind : — Non est judiciwn veritatis
in sensibus ; and also, that the certainty which may be de
rived from the senses is of no great extent, — there being
many things which we imagine ourselves to know through
sense, of which we cannot affirm that we have a complete
assurance.

For example, we may know through sense that one
body is larger than another body, but we cannot know
with certainty what is the true and natural size of each
body. To understand this, it is only necessary to consider
that if we had never see"n external objects in any other
way than through the medium of magnifying glasses, it is
certain that we should have figured to ourselves bodies,
and all the measurements of bodies, according to that size
only in which they had appeared to us through these
glasses. Now our eyes themselves are glasses, and we do
not know exactly whether they may not diminish or aug
ment the objects which we behold, or whether these artifi
cial glasses, which we imagine diminish or augment them,
may not, on the contrary, represent their true size. And,
therefore, we do not know the natural and absolute size of
any body.

We do not know, either, whether our perception of the
size of objects is the same as that of others ; for although
two persons may agree together in their measurement, that
a given body, for example, is only five feet, yet, neverthe
less, that which the one conceives to be a foot may not be

CHAP. I.] MENTAL MOKE CERTAIN THAN SENSUOUS. 297

the same as that which the other does ; for they each con
ceive what their eyes severally represent to them. Now
it may be that the eyes of one do not represent the same
thing to him which the eyes of others do to them, because
they are glasses differently cut.

This diversity, however, is probably not great, because
we do not perceive any difference in the conformation of
the eye sufficient to produce any remarkable change ; be
sides which, though our eyes are glasses, they are, however,
glasses cut by the hand of God : so that we have good
ground for believing that they represent, for the most part,
the truth of objects, except when their natural figure is
injured or disturbed by some defect.

However this may be, though the judgment of the size
of objects be to some extent uncertain, this is not very
important, and we are not from it to conclude that there is
no certainty in any of the other representations of sense ;
for, though I may not know exactly, as I have said, what
is the natural and absolute size of an elephant, I do know,
however, that he is greater than a horse, and less than a
whale ; which is sufficient for all the purposes of life.

There is, therefore, certainty and uncertainty both in
the mind and in the senses ; and it would be an equal
mistake to maintain that all things should be considered
either as certain or uncertain.

Reason, on the other hand, compels us to acknowledge,
in relation to this, three degrees.

For there are some things which we may know clearly
and certainly. There are others which we cannot know
with the clearness of truth, but to the knowledge of which
we may hope to arrive. And, finally, there are some
which it is impossible to know with certainty, either be
cause we have not the principles which would lead us to
them, or because they are too disproportionate to our
minds.

The first kind comprehends all that we know through
demonstration, or through intelligence.

The second is the matter of the study of philosophers.
But they may spend their time uselessly, if they do not
know how to distinguish these from the third, — that is to
say, if they cannot discern the things at the knowledge of

298 KNOWLEDGE. [PART IV.

which the mind may arrive, from those which it is incap
able of reaching.

The shortest method which can be found in the study of
the sciences, is that of never engaging in the search after
any of those things which are above us, and which we
cannot reasonably hope to be able to comprehend. Of
this kind are all the questions which relate to the power
of God, and generally all that belongs to the infinite, which
it is absurd to attempt to reduce within the limits of our
mind ; for our mind, being finite, is lost and confounded
in the infinite, and remains overwhelmed with the multi
tude of conflicting thoughts which it furnishes.

This is the shortest and most convenient solution which can
be given of a great number of questions, on which we may
dispute for ever, because we can never attain to any
knowledge of them sufficiently clear to fix and hold our
minds. Is it possible for a creature to have been created
from eternity ? Can God make a body infinite in size ? —
a movement infinite in swiftness ? — a multitude infinite in
number? Is an infinite number even, or uneven ? Is one
infinite greater than another ? He who should say at once,
I know nothing about these things, will have advanced as
far in a moment, as he who should have spent twenty
years in reasoning on them ; and the only difference there
would be between them is, that he who had laboured to
solve these questions is in danger of falling into a lower
state than that of simple ignorance, which is that of be
lieving himself to know what he does not.

There are also a great number of metaphysical questions,
which are too vague, too abstract, and too far removed
from clear and well-known principles, to be ever resolved ;
and the best way is for us to have as little to do with them
as we can ; and, after having learned, in general, what they
are, to resolve boldly to be ignorant of them.

Nescire qusedam, magna pars sapientise.

In this way, by freeing ourselves from inquiries in which
it is impossible to succeed, we shall be able to make more
progress in those which are adapted to the capacity of
our mind.

But it must be remarked that there are some things

CHAP. I.] MIND INCAPABLE OF KNOWING SOME THINGS. 299

which are incomprehensible in their manner, but which
are certain in their existence. We are unable to conceive
how they can be, while it is certain, nevertheless, that they are.

What is more incomprehensible than eternity, and what,
at the same time, is more certain ? So that those even,
who, through an awful blindness, have destroyed in their
mind the knowledge of God, are obliged to attribute it to
the most vile and contemptible of all things, which is matter.

How can we comprehend that the smallest grain of
matter is infinitely divisible, and that we can never reach
a part so small, but that it not only contains many others,
but also an infinity ; that the smallest grain of wheat con
tains in itself as many parts, though proportionally smaller,
as the whole world, — that all imaginable forms are actually
found in it, and that it contains in itself a small world,
with all its parts — a sun, a heaven, stars, planets — a world
with admirable exactness of proportions, — and that there
are none of the parts of that grain which do not still
themselves contain a proportional world ? What must be
the part in so small a world which answers to the size of
a grain of wheat ? and what a tremendous difference must
there be, in order that we may be able to say truly, that
what a grain of wheat is in relation to the whole world,
that part is in relation to a grain of wheat ? Nevertheless
that part, whose littleness is already incomprehensible to
us, contains still another world proportional ; and so on to
infinity, without our being able to find any which has not
as many relative parts as the whole world, however nu
merous these may be.

All these things are inconceivable ; and they must,
nevertheless, necessarily be so, since we can demonstrate
the divisibility of matter to infinity, and since geometry
has furnished us with proofs of it, as plain as those of any
of the truths which it reveals to us.

For this science shows us that there are certain lines
which have no common measure, and which are called, for
this reason, incommensurable, as the diagonal of a square,
and the sides. Now, if this diagonal and the sides were
composed of a certain number of indivisible parts, one
of these indivisible parts would be the common measure
of these two lines, and, consequently, these two lines

300 KNOWLEDGE. [PART IV.

cannot be composed of a certain number of indivisible
parts.

It is demonstrated, again, by this science, that it is
impossible for a square number to be double of another
square number, while, however, it is very possible that an
extended square may be double of another extended square.
Now, if these two extended squares were composed of a
certain number of ultimate parts, the large square would
contain double the parts of the small one, and both being
squares, there would be a square number double another
square number, which is impossible.

Finally, there is nothing more clear than this principle,
that two non-extensions cannot form an extension, and that
an extended whole has parts. Now, taking two of these
parts, which we assume to be indivisible, I ask, whether
these have extension, or whether they have not ? If they
have, they are therefore divisible, and have many parts;
if they have not, they are two negations of extension, and
thus it is impossible for them to constitute an extension.

We must renounce human certainty before we can doubt
the truth of these demonstrations ; but to help us to con
ceive, as far as is possible, this infinite divisibility of matter,
I have added yet another proof, which shows us at the
same time a division to infinity, and a motion which
slackens to infinity, without ever arriving at rest.

It is certain that, though we may doubt whether exten
sion be divisible to infinity, we cannot, at all events, doubt
that it may be augmented to infinity, and that to a plain
of a hundred thousand leagues we may join another of a
hundred thousand leagues, and so on to infinity. Now
this infinite augmentation of extension proves its infinite
divisibility ; and in order to comprehend this, we have
only to imagine a level sea which extends infinitely in
length, and a vessel on the shore of that sea, which sets
out from port in a straight line. It is certain that to any
one looking from the port at the hull of the vessel re
flected through a glass, or any other diaphanous body,
the ray which terminates at the base of that vessel will
pass through a certain point of the glass, and that the
horizontal ray will pass through another point of the glass
higher than the first. Now, in proportion as the vessel

CHAP. I.] MIND INCAPABLE OF KNOWING SOME THINGS. 301

moves away, the point of the ray which terminated at the
base of the vessel will always ascend, and will infinitely
divide the space which is between the two points ; and the
farther the vessel goes, the slower it will ascend, without
ever ceasing to rise, and without ever arriving at the point
of the horizontal ray, because the two lines, intersecting
each other in the eye, could never be either parallel or in
the same line. Thus this example furnishes at once the
proof of a division to infinity of extension, and of a diminu
tion to infinity of motion.

It is through this infinite diminution of extension, which
arises from its divisibility, that we are able to prove these
problems, which appear impossible from the terms : — To
find an infinite space equal to a finite space, or which may be
only the half or the third, &c., of a finite space. We may
resolve them in different ways ; and the following is one,
clumsy enough, but very easy : — If we take the half of a
square, and the half of that half, and so on to infinity, arid
then join all these halves together by their longest line, we
shall form from them an area of an irregular figure, which
will always diminish to infinity at one of the ends, and
which will be equal to the whole square; for the half, and
the half of that half plus the half of that second half, and
so on to infinity ; the third, and the third of the third, and
so on to infinity, constitute a half. The fourths, taken in
the same way, make the third, and the fifths the fourth.
By joining the ends of these thirds or these fourths, we
shall make from them a figure which will contain the half
or the third of the whole area, which will be infinite in
length on one side, while diminishing continually in
breadth.

The advantage which may be derived from these specu
lations is not simply the acquisition of these knowledges,
which are in themselves barren enough, but in teaching us
to know the true limits of our mind, and in making us
confess, whether we will or no, that there are some things
which exist although we are not able to comprehend them;
and hence it is well for a man to weary himself with these
subtilties, in order to check his presumption, and to take
away from him the boldness which would lead him to
oppose his feeble intelligence to the truths which the

302 ANALYSIS AND SYNTHESIS. [PART IV.

church proposes to him, under the pretext that he cannot
understand them ; for, since the strength of the human
mind is compelled to bow before the smallest atom of
matter, and to confess that it clearly sees that it is infinitely
divisible, without being able to comprehend how this can
be, it is manifest that we sin against reason in refusing to
believe the marvellous effects of the omnipotence of God
(which is in itself incomprehensible), because our mind is
unable to comprehend them.

But as it is profitable for the mind sometimes to be led
to feel its own feebleness, through the consideration of
those objects which are above it, and which, being above
it, abase and humble it, it is certain, also, that we must
endeavour to choose, for our ordinary occupation, subjects
and matters which may be more adapted to our capacity,
and whose truth we may be able to discover and compre
hend. This is done, either by proving effects through
their causes, which is called proving a priori, or by de
monstrating, on the contrary, causes through their effects,
which is called proving a posteriori. It is necessary to
extend these terms a little, in order to bring under them
all kinds of demonstrations ; but it was well to notice them
in passing, that we may understand them, and that we
may not be surprised when we meet with them in the
books or in the discourses of philosophy ; and since these
reasons are commonly composed of many parts, it is
necessary, in order to render them clear and conclusive, to
dispose them in a certain order and method. Of this
method we shall treat in the greater part of the present
book.

CHAPTER II.

OF THE TWO KINDS OF METHOD ANALYSIS AND SYNTHESIS.

EXAMPLE OF ANALYSIS.

METHOD may be called, in general, the art of disposing well
a series of many thoughts, either for the discovering truth when

CHAP. II.] EXAMPLE OP ANALYSIS. 303

we are ignorant of It, or for proving it to others when it is
already known.

Thus there are two kinds of method, one for discovering
truth, which is called analysis, or the method of resolution,
and which may also be called the method of invention ; and
the other for explaining it to others when we have found
it, which is called synthesis, or the method of composition, and
which may be also called the method of doctrine. We do not
commonly treat of the entire body of a science by analysis,
but employ it only to resolve some question.*
All questions are either of words or things.
By questions of words we here mean, not those in which
we inquire into words, but those in which, through the
words, we inquire into things, as those in which we engage
to find the sense of an enigma, or to explain, from obscure
or ambiguous words, what is the true meaning of an author.
Questions of things may be reduced to four principal
kinds : the first is, when ive seek causes through effects. We
know, for example, the different effects of the loadstone —
we inquire into the cause of these ; we know the different
effects which are commonly attributed to the abhorrence of
a vacuum — we inquire whether that is the true cause, and
we have found that it is not ; we know the ebb and flow of
the sea — we ask what can be the cause of a motion so great
and so regular.

The second is, when we seek effects through causes. It was
always, for example, known that wind and water possessed
treat power over the movements of bodies; but the ancients,
not having sufficiently examined what effects might flow
from these causes, did not apply them as they have since
been applied, by means of mills, to a great number of pur
poses very useful to society, which wonderfully lessen the
labour of men, which ought to be the result of true physics :
so that we may say that the first kind of questions in
which we seek causes through effects, constitute the specu
lative part of physics ; and the second kind, in which we
seek effects by causes, the practical.

The third kind of questions is, when through the parts we

* The greater part of what is here said of questions is taken from a
MS. of the late M. Descartes, which M. Clercelier had the goodness to
lend me.

304 ANALYSIS AND SYNTHESIS. [PART IV.

seek the whole : as when, having many numbers, we seek
their sum by adding them together ; or when, having two,
we seek their product by multiplying them together.

The fourth is, when, having the whole and some part, we
seek another part ; as when, having one number and another
which is to be subtracted from it, we seek what remains ;
or when, having a number, we seek what such a part of it
will be.

But it must be remarked that, in order to extend further
the two last kinds of questions, and in order that we may
comprehend what cannot be properly brought under the
two first, it is necessary to take the word part in its most
general signification for all which a thing comprises — its
modes, its extremities, its accidents, its properties, and, in
general, all its attributes, so that, for example, we shall
seek the whole by its parts when we seek to find the area
of a triangle from its height and base, and we shall, on the
contrary, seek a part by the whole, and another part when
we seek to find the side of a rectangle from knowing its
area and one of its sides.

Now, whatever may be the nature of the question which
we propose to resolve, the first thing which we must do is
to conceive, accurately and distinctly, precisely what it is we
are seeking, that is, what is the precise point of the question.
For we must avoid what happens to some, who, by a
precipitation of mind, engage in the resolution of what is
proposed to them before having sufficiently considered by
what signs or marks they might recognise what they seek
for if they met with it, as a valet, who, when commanded
by his master to fetch one of his friends, should hurry
away before having learnt more particularly from his
master who that friend was.

Now, although in every question there is something
unknown, otherwise there would be nothing to seek, it is,
nevertheless, necessary that even that which is unknown
should be marked out and designated by certain conditions
which may determine us to seek one thing rather than
another, and which may enable us to judge, when we
have found it, that it is the thing of which we were in search.
And these conditions ought to be well considered before
hand, that we may not add anything which is not contained

CHAP II.] EXAMPLE OF ANALYSIS. 305

in that which is proposed, and that we may not omit any-
thingwhichit does contain, forwe may sin in both these ways.

We should sin in the first way, if when, for example,
we were asked what animal that is which goes in the morn
ing on four feet, at mid-day on two, and in the evening on
three, we believed ourselves obliged to take all these words,
feet, morning, middle-day, evening, in their strict and literal
meaning ; for he who proposes this enigma has not laid it
down as a condition that we must take them in this way,
but it is sufficient that these words may, by metaphor, be
referred to other things, and thus that question is properly
resolved when we say that that animal is man.

Suppose, again, that we were asked by what artifice the
figure of a Tantalus could have been made, which, lying
on a column in the midst of a vase in the posture of a man
who bent down to drink, was never able to do so, because
the water, though able to rise very well in the vase up
to his mouth, as soon as it reached his lips all flowed
away, until none was left in the vase. We should sin
by adding conditions which would not at all contribute
towards the solution of this question, if we were to busy
ourselves in seeking after some secret wonder in the figure
of this Tantalus, which caused the water to flow away as
soon as it had touched his lips — for this is not involved in
the question — and if we would conceive it aright, we ought
to reduce it to these terms : — To make a vase which would
hold water so long as it was filled to a certain height, and
which would let it all flow away again if it were filled
beyond. And this is very easy, for we need only hide in
the column a syphon which has one small opening below,
through which the water enters, and the longer leg of which
has an opening below the foot of the vase ; so long as the
water which we put in the vase does not reach the height
of the syphon it will remain there, but when it reaches it,
it will all flow away through the longer leg of the syphon,
which is hidden below the foot of the vase.

It is asked, again, What could be the secret of that water
drinker who exhibited himself at Paris twenty years ago,
and how it could be that in throwing out water from his
mouth he filled, at the same time, five or six diS'erent
glasses with water of different colours ? If we imagine that

306 ANALYSIS AND SYNTHESIS. [PART IV.

these waters of different colours were in his stomach, and
he separated them in throwing them up, one into one glass
and another into another, we should inquire after a secret
which we could never find, since it is not possible ; whereas
we ought to inquire only how water coming at the same
time from the same mouth appeared of different colours
in each of these glasses, and it is very likely that this
would be from some tincture that he had placed at the
bottom of each of these glasses.

It is also an artifice of those who propose questions
which they do not wish should be easily resolved, to sur
round that which is to be found with so many conditions
which are useless, and which do not contribute anything
to its discovery, that we cannot easily detect the true point
of the question, and that we thus lose time, and uselessly
weary the mind in keeping its attention fixed on things
which do not at all contribute to resolve it.

The other way in which we sin in the examination of
the conditions of what we seek, is, when we omit some
things which are essential to the question proposed. It is
proposed, for example, to find, by art, perpetual motion ;
for we know well that there are some which are perpetual
in nature, such as the movements of fountains, of rivers, of
seas. There are some who, having imagined that the
earth turns on its centre, and that it is only a great mag
net, of which the loadstone has all the properties, have also
believed that we might dispose a magnet so that it would
always turn circularly ; but even if this were so, we should
not then solve the problem of finding, by art, perpetual
motion, since that motion would be as natural as that of a
wheel exposed to the current of a river.

When, therefore, we have well examined the conditions
which designate and mark out what is unknown in the
question, we must then examine what is known, since it is
through this that we must arrive at the knowledge of what
is unknown ; for we need not imagine that we shall find a
new kind of being, inasmuch as our intelligence can go
no further than the recognition that what we seek partici
pates in such and such a way in the nature of things al
ready known. If, for example, a man were blind from
birth, it would be in vain to seek after arguments and

CHAP. II.] EXAMPLE OF ANALYSIS. 307

proofs to convey to him the true idea of colours such as
we possess through sense ; and so, if the magnet about
which we interrogate nature, were a new kind of being,
the like of which our mind had never conceived, we could
never attain to the knowledge of it by reasoning, for we
should need for this a different mind from our own. And
so we ought to believe that we have found all that can be
found by the human mind, if we can distinctly conceive
such a mixture of the beings and natures which are
known to us as may produce all the effects which we see
in the magnet.

Now it is in the attention we give to that which is known
in the question we wish to resolve, that analysis mainly
consists, the whole art being to derive, from this examina
tion, many truths which may conduct us to the knowledge
of what we seek.

As, suppose it be asked whether the soul of man is immortal,
and that, in order to discover this, we apply ourselves to
consider the nature of the soul, we remark, in the first place,
respecting it, that it is the property of the soul to think,
and that it may doubt of everything else without being
able to doubt whether it thinks, since doubt itself is a
.thought. We then inquire what it is to think, and finding
that nothing is contained in the idea of thought which be
longs to the idea of substance extended, which we call
body, and that we may even deny of thought everything
which belongs to body (such as being long, short, deep,
having diversity of parts, and being of such or such a
figure, being divisible, &c.), without destroying, on that
account, the idea which we have of thought, we conclude
fi-om this that thought is not a mode of substance ex
tended, since, according to the nature of a mode, it cannot
be conceived to exist when that of which it was the mode
is denied. Whence, we infer again, that thought not being
a mode of substance extended, must be the attribute of
another substance, and that thus the substance which
thinks and the substance extended are two substances really
distinct ; from which it follows that the destruction of the
one does not involve the destruction of the other, since
even the substance extended is not properly destroyed, but
that all which happens in what we call destruction is

308 ANALYSIS AND SYNTHESIS. [PART IV.

nothing more than the change or dissolution of some parts
of matter which always remain in nature, as we know well
enough that in breaking all the wheels of a clock none of
its substance is destroyed, although we say that the clock
is destroyed ; which proves that the soul, not being divisible,
and not being composed of any parts, cannot perish, and
is, therefore, immortal.

This is what is called analysis or resolution, on which it
may be remarked : —

1st, That we ought to observe in it, as well as in the
method, which is called that of composition, always to pass
from that which is more known to that which is less ; for
there is not any true method which can dispense with this
rule.

2d, But it differs from that of composition in this — that
we take those truths known in the particular examination
from the thing which we are supposed to know, and not
from things more general, as we do in the method of doc
trine. Thus, in the example which we have given, we did
not begin by the establishment of these general maxims : —
That no substance perishes, properly speaking ; that what
is called destruction is only a dissolution of parts ; that
thus that which has no parts cannot be destroyed, &c.
But we ascended by degrees to these general knowledges.

3d, We propose clear and evident maxims only in pro
portion as we need them, whereas, in the other, we estab
lish them at first, as will be shown hereafter.

4th, Finally, these two methods differ only as the road
by which we ascend from a valley to a mountain from that
by which we descend from the mountain into the valley,
which is no difference of road, but only a difference in the
going ; or, as the two ways differ, which we may employ
to prove that a person is descended from St Louis, of which
the one is to show that this person had such a one for his
father, who was the son of such a one, and he of another,
and so on to St Louis ; and the other, that of commencing
with St Louis, and showing that he had such children,
and that from these children others descended down to the
person in question. And this example is the more suitable
on this occasion, since it is certain, that, in order to
find an unknown genealogy, we must remount from the

CHAP. II.] EXAMPLE OF ANALYSIS. 309

son to the father, whereas, in explaining it after it has been
found, the most common method is to commence with the
stock, in order to show the descendants from it, which is
also what is commonly done in the sciences, where, after
having used analysis to find some truth, we employ the
other method for explaining what is found.

We may hence understand that this is the analysis of
the geometers ; for it proceeds as follows : — A question
having been proposed to them, in relation to which they
are ignorant — if it be a theorem, of its truth or falsehood;
if a problem, of its possibility or impossibility — they assume
that it is as it is pi-oposed ; and examining what follows
from this, if they arrive, in that examination, at some clear
truth from which what is proposed to them is a necessary
consequence, they conclude from this that what is proposed
to them is true ; and, returning then through the way they
had come, they demonstrate it by another method which
is called composition. But if they fall, as a necessary conse
quence from what is proposed to them, into some absurdity
or impossibility, they conclude from this, that what is pro
posed to them is false and impossible.

This is what may be said generally touching analysis,
which consists more in judgment and sagacity of mind
than in particular rules. The four following, nevertheless,
which M. Descartes proposes in his method, may be useful
for preserving us from error, when seeking after the truth
in human sciences, although, indeed, they apply generally
to all kinds of method, and not specially to analysis alone.

The first is, Never to accept anything as true ivhich ive do
not clearli/ know to be so, that is to say, to avoid carefully
precipitation and prejudice, and to comprise nothing more
in our judgments than what is presented so clearly to the
mind that we have no room to doubt it.

The second, To divide each of the difficulties ive examine
into as many parts as possible, and as may be necessary for re
solving it.

A third, To conduct our thoughts in order, by commencing
with objects the most simple and the most easily known, in order
to ascend by degrees to the knowledge of the most complex, sup
posing even, from the order between them, that they do not
naturally precede each other.

310 METHOD OF COMPOSITION. [PART IV.

The fourth, to make, in relation to everything, enumerations
so complete that we may be assured of having omitted nothing.

It is true that there is much difficulty in observing these
rules, but it is always advantageous to have them in the
mind, and to observe them as much as possible when we
try to discover the truth by means of reason, and as far as
our mind is capable of knowing it.

CHAPTER III.

OF THE METHOD OF COMPOSITION, AND PARTICULARLY OF
THAT WHICH THE GEOMETERS OBSERVE.

WHAT we have said in the preceding chapter has already
given us some idea of the method of composition, which is
the most important, inasmuch as it is that which is em
ployed for the explanation of all the sciences.

This method consists principally in commencing with
the most general and simple things, in order to pass to
those which are less general and more complex. In this
way we avoid repetitions, since, were we to treat of the
species before the genus, as it is impossible to know well a
species without knowing its genus, it would be necessary
to explain the nature of the genus many times in the ex
planation of each species.

There are still many things to be observed in order to
render this method perfect, and fully fitted to the end
which it ought to propose, which is, that of giving us a
clear and distinct knowledge of truth. But as general
precepts are more difficult to comprehend when they are
separated from all matter, we will consider the method
which the geometers follow, that being always considered
best adapted for proving the truth, and for fully convincing
the mind of it. We shall first consider what is its excel
lence ; and, in the second place, wherein it appears to be
defective.

CHAP. III.] METHOD OF COMPOSITION. 311

The geometers having for their aim the advancing only
of that which is convincing, have believed that they could
secure this by observing three things in general : —

The first is, to leave no ambiguity in the terms, which they
have provided for by the definition of Avords, of which we
have spoken in the First Part.

The second is, to establish their reasonings only on principles
clear and evident, and which cannot be contested by any
one ; which leads them, first of all, to lay down axioms
which they require to be granted to them, as being so
clear that they would only be obscured by any attempt to
prove them.

The third is, to prove demonstratively all the conclusions
which they advance, by availing themselves only of the de
finitions which they have laid down of principles which
have been accorded to them as being very evident, or of
propositions which they have derived from these by the
force of reasoning, which afterwards become to them the
same as principles.

Thus we may reduce to these three heads all that the
geometers have observed for convincing the mind, and
include the whole in these five most important rules : —

NECESSARY RULES :

For Definitions.

1. To admit no terms in the least obscure or equivocal with
out defining them.

2. To employ in the definitions only terms already known or
perfectly explained.

For Axioms.

3. To demand as axioms only things perfectly evident.

For Demonstrations.

4. To prove all propositions winch are at all. obscure, by em
ploying in their proof only the definitions which have preceded, or
the axioms which have been accorded, or the propositions which
have been already demonstrated, or the construction of the thing

312 EXPOSITION OF THE RULES. DEFINITIONS. [PAKT IV.

itself which is in dispute, ivhen there may be any operation to
perform.

5. Never to abuse the equivocation of terms by failing to
substitute for them, mentally, the definitions which restrict and
explain them.

This is what the geometers have judged necessary in order
to render their proofs convincing and invincible. It must
be confessed that attention to the observation of these rules
is sufficient to enable us to avoid false reasoning in the
treating of the sciences, which is, without doubt, the main
thing, since all the rest may be called useful rather than
necessary.

CHAPTER IV.

MORE PARTICULAR EXPOSITION OF THESE RULES ; AND, IN
THE FIRST PLACE, OF THOSE WHICH RELATE TO DEFINI
TIONS.

ALTHOUGH we have already spoken in the First Part
touching the utility of the definition of terms, it is never
theless so important, that we cannot have it too much
impressed on our minds, since we may by it clear up a
number of disputes, which have as their subject often only
the ambiguity of terms, which one takes in one sense, and
another in another. So that some of the greatest contro
versies would cease in a moment, if one or other of the
disputants took care to mark out precisely, and in a few
words, what he understands by the terms which are the
subject of dispute.

Cicero has remarked that the greater part of the dis
putes between the ancient philosophers, and especially
between the Stoics and the Academics, were founded only
on this ambiguity of words, — the Stoics being delighted,

CHAP. IV.] EXPOSITION OF THE RULES. — DEFINITIONS. 313

in order to elevate themselves, to take several terms in a
different sense from others. This created the belief that
their morality was much more severe and perfect, although
in reality this pretended perfection was only in words, and
not in things. The wise man of the Stoics did not less
enjoy all the pleasures of life than the philosophers of
other sects, apparently not so strict, and did not avoid
with less care its evils and inconveniences, with this
single difference, that while other philosophers employed
the common terms of good and evil, the Stoics, in en
joying pleasures, did not call them good things, but pre
ferable things (Trpo^eW) ; and in avoiding evils, they did
not call them evils, but simply things to be rejected (dno
Trpotjfieva).

It is a caution very useful to cast away from all disputes
everything which is founded only on the equivocation of
words, by defining them in other terms so clear, that it is
impossible for them to be any longer mistaken.

For this, the first of the rules which we have laid down
avails: never to leave any term at all obscure or equivocal
without defining it.

But in order to derive all the profit which we ought to
do from these definitions, it is necessary still to add the
second rule, — to employ in the definitions only terms perfectly
well knoivn, or already explained.

For when we have not marked out with sufficient pre
cision and distinctness the idea to which we wish to attach
a word, it is almost impossible for us, in the course of the
argument, to avoid passing to another idea than that
which we had marked out, — that is to say, instead of
mentally substituting, every time we use the word, the
same idea which we had designated, we substitute for it
another word with which nature furnishes us ; and it is
easy to discover this by formally substituting the definition
for the thing defined. For this ought not to change the
proposition at all if we have always kept to the same
idea, whereas it will change it if we have not done so.

All this will be better comprehended by some examples.
Euclid defines a plane rectilinear angle the meeting of two
right lines which incline towards each other in the same plane.
If we consider this definition as the simple definition of a

314 EXPOSITION OF THE RULES. — DEFINITIONS. [PART IV.

word, so that the word angle be considered as having
been deprived of all signification in order to receive that
of the meeting of two right lines, there is nothing to cen
sure in it ; for Euclid may be permitted to call the word
angle the meeting of two lines. But he is bound to re
member this, and never to take the word angle in any
other sense. Now, in order to do this, it is only necessary
to substitute for the word angle, wherever he uses it, the
definition of it which he has given ; and if, in substituting
this definition, there be found any absurdity in what is
said of an angle, it will follow that he has not kept to the
same idea as he had designated, but that he has uncon
sciously passed to another, which is that of nature. He
tells us, for example, how to divide an angle in two.
Substitute his definition : Who does not see that it is not
the meeting of two lines which we divide into two, — but
it is not the meeting of two lines which has sides and a
base or subtendant, — but that all this belongs to the space
between the lines, and not to the meeting of the lines?

It is plain that what perplexed Euclid, and withheld
him from designating an angle by the words — space com
prised within two lines which meet together — was, that he saw
that this space might be larger or smaller when the sides
of the angle were longer or shorter, without the angle
within being greater or less. But he ought not to have
concluded from this that the rectilinear angle was not a
space, but simply that it was a space contained between
two right lines which meet together, indeterminate in
relation to the one of the two dimensions, which answers
to the length of these lines, — and determinate in relation
to the other by the proportional part of a circumference,
which has for its centre the point in which these lines
meet.

This definition designates so exactly the idea which all
men have of an angle, that it is at once the definition of a
word and of a thing, except that the word angle com
prises also, in common discourse, a solid angle, whereas,
by this definition, it is restricted to signify a plane recti
linear angle. And when we have thus defined an angle,
it is indubitable that everything which we may afterwards
say of a plane rectilinear angle (such as we find in all

CHAP. IV.] EXPOSITION OF THE RULES.— DEFINITIONS. 315

rectilinear figures) will be true of this angle thus defined,
without our ever being obliged to change the idea, and
without our meeting with any absurdity in substituting
the definition for the thing defined. For it is that space*
thus explained, which we may divide into two, into three,
into four ; it is that space which has two sides, between
which it is contained; it is that space which we may
terminate on the side which is itself indeterminate, by a
line which is called the base or subtendant ; it is that space
which is not considered as greater or less for being con
tained between lines longer or shorter, because, °bein"-
indeterminate in relation to this dimension, it is not from
this that we ought to measure its greatness or smallness.
By this definition, too, we obtain the means of jud»ln^
whether one angle is equal to another angle, or greater or
less ; for since the size of that space is only determined by
the proportional part of a circumference, which has for its
centre the point in which the lines which contain the angle
meet, when two angles have for their measure equal
aliquot parts of its circumference, they are equal, as, for
instance, the tenth part ; and if one has the tenth, and the
other the twelfth, that which has the tenth is greater than
that which has the twelfth. Whereas, according to the
definition of Euclid, we cannot understand in what the
equality of two angles consists, which produces a terrible
confusion in his Elements, as Ramus has remarked, though
he himself makes scarcely any improvement.

The following are other definitions of Euclid, in which
he commits the same fault as in that of the angle. " Ratio"
says he, " is the habitude of two magnitudes of the same land
compared together, according to quantity. Proportion is a
likeness of ratios"

According to these definitions, the term ratio ought to
comprehend the habitude which is between two magnitudes,
when we consider how far one exceeds the other ; for it
cannot be denied that this is a habitude of two magnitudes
compared in relation to their quantity ; and, consequently,
four magnitudes will have a proportion together when the
difference of the first to the second is equal to the difference
of the third to the fourth. Nothing, therefore, can be said
against these definitions of Euclid, provided that he always

316 EXPOSITION OF THE RULES DEFINITIONS. [PART IV.

keeps to the notions which he has designated by these
words, and to which he has given the names of ratio and
proportion. But he does not always keep to them, since,
according to what follows in his book, these four numbers,
3, 5, 8, 10, are not proportional, although the definition
which he has given to the word proportion agrees with
them, since there is between the first number and the
second, compared according to quantity, a like habitude
to that which exists between the third and the fourth.

It is necessary, therefore, in order not to be deceived by
this disagreement, to remark that we may compare two
magnitudes in two ways, one by considering how much one
exceeds the other, and the other, in what way one is con
tained in another ; and since these two habitudes are dif
ferent, it is necessary to give them different names, giving
to the first the name of difference, and to the second the
name of ratio. It is necessary, accordingly, to define pro
portion as the equality of one or other of these kind of
habitudes, that is to say, of the difference or of the ratio;
and since this makes two species, to distinguish them also
by two different names, by calling the equality of the dif
ferences arithmetical proportion, and the equality of the
ratios geometrical proportion. And since this last is of much
greater use than the first, we might still further premise,
that when we simply speak of proportion, or proportional
magnitudes, we mean geometrical proportion, and that we
mean arithmetical only when it is so expressed. This
would have cleared up all obscurity, and have removed the
equivocation.

All this shows us that we ought not to abuse that maxim,
that the definition of words is arbitrary, but that great care
ought to be taken to designate so accurately and clearly
the idea to which we wish to connect the word which we
define that we cannot be deceived by it in the subsequent
discourse, by changing that idea, that is, by taking the
word in another sense from that which we had given to it
in the definition, so that we cannot substitute the definition
for the thing defined without falling into some absurdity.

CHAP. V.] DEFINITION OF WORDS AND OF THINGS, ETC. 317

CHAPTER V.

THAT THE GEOMETERS DO NOT APPEAR ALWAYS TO HAVE
RIGHTLY UNDERSTOOD THE DIFFERENCE WHICH EXISTS
BETWEEN THE DEFINITION OF WORDS AND THE DEFINI
TION OF THINGS.

ALTHOUGH there are no authors who have turned the de
finition of words to better account than the geometers, I
feel myself, nevertheless, obliged to remark here, that they
have not always regarded the difference which ought to be
observed between the definitions of things and the defini
tions of words, to wit, that the first are open to dispute,
and that the others cannot be disputed ; for there are some
who dispute about the definition of words as earnestly as
though they were the things themselves.

Thus we may see, in the Commentaries of Clavius on
Euclid, a long and very angry dispute between Pelletier
and himself, touching the space between the tangent and
the circumference, which Pelletier affirmed was not an
angle, when Clavius maintained that it was. Who does
not see that all this might have been settled in a word
by demanding from each what he understood by the term
angle ?

We see, again, that Simon Stevin, a very celebrated
mathematician of the Prince of Orange, having defined
number thus : — Number is that by which the quantity of every
thing is explained, — gets immediately into a great rage
against those who do not allow unity to be a number,
breaking into rhetorical exclamations as though it were a
most important discussion. It is true that he mingles with
that discourse a question of some importance, which is,
Whether the unit is to number what a point is to a line ?
But it is necessary to distinguish this, in order that we may
not confuse two things very different. And thus, to treat
separately these two questions — the one, whether the unit is
a number ; the other, whether the unit is to number what a

318 DEFINITION OF WORDS AND OF THINGS [PART IV.

point is to a line — it must be said about the first that it is
only a dispute touching words, and that the unit may be a
number, or may not be, according to the definition which
we choose to give of number ; for, defining it as Euclid
does, — number is a multitude of units together — it is plain that
the unit is not a number ; but that, as this definition of
Euclid was arbitrary, and we may thus give another to the
word number, we may give to it one such as that which
Stevin proposes, according to which unity is a number.
Hence the first question is void ; and we cannot say any
thing against those who choose to call unity a number
without a manifest begging of the question, as we may see
by examining the pretended demonstrations of Stevin. The
first is : — •

The part is of the same nature as the whole ;

Unity is part of a multitude of units ;

Therefore unity is of the same nature as a multitude of

units, and, consequently, a number.

This argument is worth nothing at all ; for though the
part be always of the same nature as the whole, it will not
follow that it must always have the same name as the
whole ; and, on the contrary, it very often happens that it
has not the same name. A soldier is one part of an army,
and not an army ; a room is one part of a house, and not
a house ; a semicircle is not a circle ; a part of a square is
not a square. This argument proves, therefore, rather
that unity, being part of a multitude of unities, has some
thing in common with the whole multitude of unities, in
relation to which we may say that it is of the same nature ;
but this does not prove that we are obliged to give the
same name, number, to a unit and a multitude of units,
since we may, if we choose, keep the term, number, for a
multitude of units, and give to the unit only the name of
unity, or of a part of a number.

The second reason of Stevin is no better : —

If, from a given number we take away no number, the
number remains the same ;

Therefore, if unity were no number, in taking one from
three, the given number would remain the same, which
is absurd.
But the major here is ridiculous, and supposes the very

CHAP. V.] NOT RIGHTLY UNDERSTOOD BY GEOMETERS. 319

thing in dispute ; for Euclid will deny that the given
number remains when we have taken away no number
from it, since it is enough for its not continuing what it
was, that we take away from it either a number, or a part of
a number, such as the unit is. And if this argument were
good, we might prove, in the same way, that in taking
away a semicircle from a given circle, the given circle
must remain, since we have taken away from it no circle.

Thus all the arguments of Stevin prove rather that we
may define the word number in such a way that it may
apply to unity, inasmuch as unity, and the multitude of
unities, have sufficient in common to enable them to be
signified by the same name ; but they do not prove at all
that we may not also define number by restricting this
word to a multitude of units, in order that we may not be
obliged to except unity whenever we explain the properties
which belong to all numbers but unity.

But the second question — that, to wit, whether the unit is
to other numbers as the point is to the line — is not of the
same nature as the first, and is not a dispute of a word,
but of a thing. For it is absolutely false that the unit may
be to number as the point is to the line, since unity added
to a number makes it greater, whereas, when a point is
added to a line, it does not. Unity is part of number, and
the point is no pai't of a line. When unity is taken away
from a number, the given number does not remain ; and
when the point is taken away from the line, the given line
does remain.

The same Stevin is full of such disputes on the de
finition of words, as when he labours zealously to prove
that number is not a discrete quantity — that the propor
tion of numbers is always arithmetical, and not geo
metrical, — that every root, of any number whatever it
may be, is a number ; — which proves that he did properly
understand what the definition of a word was, and that he
has taken the definitions of words which cannot be con
tested, for the definitions of things which may be very
often justly contested.

320 RULES WHICH RELATE TO AXIOMS. [PART IV.

CHAPTER VI.

OF THE RULES WHICH RELATE TO AXIOMS, THAT IS, TO

PROPOSITIONS CLEAR AND EVIDENT OF THEMSELVES.

EVERT one agrees that there are propositions so clear and
so evident in themselves, that they do not need any de
monstration ; and that all those which are not demonstrated
ought to be such, in order to become the principles of a
true demonstration. For if they be at all uncertain, it is
clear that they cannot be the foundation of a conclusion
altogether certain.

But many do not sufficiently comprehend in what this
clearness and evidence of a proposition consists. For, in
the first place, we must not imagine that a proposition is
clear and certain when no one contradicts it; and that we
ought to consider it doubtful, or, at least, must be obliged
to prove it, when any one denies it. If this were so, there
would be nothing certain or clear, since philosophers have
been found who have professed to doubt, generally, of
everything, and some even who have maintained that there
is no proposition at all more probable than its contrary.
We ought not, therefore, to judge of certainty and clear
ness by the disputes of men, for there is nothing that may
not be contested, in word, at least ; but we must hold as
clear that which appears so to all those who will take the
trouble to consider things with attention, and who are
sincere in the utterance of what their inward conviction is.
Hence, what Aristotle says is of most important meaning,
that demonstration properly relates to the interior dis
course, and not to the exterior ; since there is nothing so
well demonstrated that it may not be denied by an obsti
nate man, who undertakes to dispute in words the things
even of which he is inwardly persuaded. This is a very
ill disposition, and altogether unworthy of a well consti
tuted mind, though it is true that this humour often

CHAP. VI. ] RULES AVHICH RELATE TO AXIOMS. 321

obtains in the schools of philosophy, through the custom
which is introduced among them of disputing about every
thing, and making it a point of honour never to yield, he
being accounted the man of most mind who is most prompt
at discovering evasions for avoiding it ; whereas the cha
racter of an honourable man is to lay down his arms
before the truth as soon as he perceives it, and to love it
even in the mouth of his adversary.

Secondly, even those philosophers who hold that all our
ideas come from sense, maintain also, that all the certainty
and evidence of propositions comes either immediately or
mediately from sense. " For," say they, " even that
axiom which is considered as clear and evident as we
can possibly desire — the whole is greater than its part — is
firmly established in our minds only because that from
our infancy AVC have observed in detail that a man is
greater than his head, and a whole house than a chamber,
and a whole forest than a tree, and the Avhole heaven than
a star."

This fancy is as false as that which AVC have refuted in
the First Part, that all our ideas come from sense. For if we
Avere assured of this truth — the whole is greater than its part
— only through the different instances in which AVC had
observed it from our infancy, AVC should have only a pro
bable assurance of it, since induction is only a certain
means of knowing a thing Avhen we are assured that the
induction is complete ; — there being nothing more common
than to discover the falsity of Avhat AVC had believed to be
true, on inductions which appeared to us so general, that
we could not imagine any exception could be found.

Thus, not long since, it Avas believed as indubitable that
the water contained in a curved vessel, of which one end
was much larger than the other, remained always level —
being no higher in the small end than in the large — be
cause it had been proved by a multitude of observations.
It has been, hoAvever, lately found that this is false Avhen
one of the ends is extremely narrow, since then the Avater
rises higher in it than in the other. This shows that
inductions alone could never giA^e us complete certainty of
any truth, — at all eA-ents, not before AVC Avere assured that
they were universal, Avhich is impossible. And, conse-

322 RULES WHICH RELATE TO AXIOMS. [PART IV.

quently, we could only have a probable assurance of the
truth of this axiom, that the whole is greater than its part, if
we were only assured of it in consequence of having seen
that a man is greater than his head, a forest than a tree,
the heaven than a star, — since we should be always open
to doubt whether there might not be some other whole,
which we had not observed, which was not greater than
its part.

It is not, therefore, on these observations which we have
made from our infancy that the certainty of this axiom de
pends. There is, on the contrary, nothing more capable
of keeping us in error than the holding fast to these preju
dices of our childhood. But this certainty depends solely
on this, that the clear and distinct ideas which we have of
a whole and of a part manifestly involve that the whole is
greater than the part, and that the part is smaller than the
whole. And all that could be effected by the different ob
servations which we have made, of a man being greater
than his head, a house than a room, has been to furnish us
with occasions of paying attention to the ideas of whole
and part. But it is positively false that they were the
cause of the absolute and immoveable certainty that we
have of the truth of this axiom. This, I think, I have de
monstrated.

What we have said of this axiom may be said of all
others, and thus we believe that the certainty and evidence
of human knowledge in natural things depends on this
principle, —

All that is contained in the clear and distinct idea of a thing
may be affirmed with truth of that thing.

Thus, since the being animal is contained in the idea of
man, I may affirm of man that he is animal ; since, having
all its diameters, equal is contained in the idea of a circle, I
may affirm of every circle that all its diameters are equal ;
since, having all its angles, equal to two right angles is
contained in the idea of a triangle, I may affirm this of
every triangle.

We cannot dispute this principle without destroying the
whole evidence of human knowledge and establishing an
absurd Pyrrhonism. For we can judge of things only by
the ideas which we have of them, since the only means we

CHAP. VI.] RULES WHICH RELATE TO AXIOMS. 323

have of conceiving them is what we have in our mind, and
they are there only through our ideas. Now, if the judg
ments which we form by considering these ideas do not
regard things in themselves, but simply our thoughts — that
is to say, if, when I see clearly that the having three
angles equal to two right angles is contained in the idea
of a triangle, I have no right to conclude, in truth, that
every triangle has three angles equal to two right angles,
but simply that I think so — it is plain that we could have
no knowledge of things, but simply of our thoughts, and,
consequently, we should know nothing of the things we are
persuaded that we know most certainly ; but we should
only know that we think them to be so and so, which
would manifestly destroy all the sciences.

And it need not be thought that there are any men who
seriously acquiesce in these consequences, that we do not
know in relation to anything, whether it be true or false
in itself. For there are some things so simple and so evi
dent — as, / think, therefore I am ; the ivhole is greater than its
part — that it is impossible seriously to doubt whether they
are in themselves such as we conceive them. The reason
is, that we cannot doubt of them without thinking of them,
and that we cannot think of them without believing them
true, and, consequently, we cannot doubt them.

Nevertheless, this principle alone is not sufficient to
judge of what ought to be believed as an axiom ; for there
are attributes which are really contained in the idea of things,
which, nevertheless, may, and ought, to be demonstrated —
as, the equality of all angles of a triangle to two right angles,
or of all those of a hexagon to eight right angles. But we must
carefully observe whether we need only consider the idea
of a thing with a slight attention, in order to see clearly
that such an attribute is contained in it, or whether, be
sides, it is necessary to join to it some other idea, in order
to perceive that connection. When it is necessary to con
sider only the idea, the proposition may be taken as an
axiom, especially if that consideration requires only a mo
derate attention, of which all common minds are capable.
But if some other idea be necessary besides the idea of the
thing, it is a proposition which needs to be demonstrated.
Thus we may give the two following rules for axioms : —

324 RULES WHICH RELATE TO AXIOMS. [PART IV.

1st RULE.

When, in order to see clearly that an attribute belongs to a subject
(as that it belongs to a whole to be greater than its part), we need only
consider the two ideas of subject and attribute with moderate attention,
so that we cannot give this attention without perceiving that the idea of
that attribute is truly contained in the idea of the subject. We ought,
then, to take this proposition as an axiom which needs no demonstra
tion, because it has, of itself, all the evidence which demonstration
could have given to it, since demonstration could do nothing more than
show that this attribute belongs to the subject, by employing a third
idea to show this connection, which we see already without the aid of
any third idea.

But we must not confound a simple exposition (though
this should even take the form of an argument) with a true
demonstration ; for there are axioms which need to be ex
plained, in order that they may be better understood,
although they do not need to be demonstrated, the exposi
tion being nothing more than saying in other words, and
more at length, what is contained in the axiom, whereas,
demonstration requires some new mean which the axiom
did not clearly contain.

2d RULE.

When the simple consideration of the idea of the subject and the at
tribute is not sufficient to enable us to see clearly that the attribute
belongs to the subject, the proposition which affirms that it does ought
not to be taken as an axiom ; but it ought to be demonstrated by em
ploying some other ideas to show that connection, as we employ the idea
of parallel lines in order to show that the three angles of a triangle
are equal to two right angles.

These two rules are more important than we may think,
for it is one of the most common defects among men, that
of not consulting themselves in relation to what they affirm
or deny, — of referring to what they have heard said, or
what they have previously thought, without carefully ob
serving what they would think of them themselves if they
were to consider with more attention what passes in their
own mind — of confining themselves rather to the sound of
the words than to their true ideas — of affirming, as clear
and evident, that which it is impossible for them to con
ceive, and denying, as false, what it would be impossible
for them not to believe true, if they would take the trouble
to consider it seriously.

CHAP. VII.] AXIOMS WHICH MAT BE EMPLOYED, ETC. 325

For example, those who say that in a piece of wood,
besides its parts and their situation, their figure, their
motion, or rest, and the pores which enter into their parts —
there is still a substantial form distinguished from all this,
think they say nothing but what is certain, while, how
ever, they utter a thing which neither themselves nor any
one else comprehends, or ever will comprehend.

While, if, on the contrary, we would explain to them
the effects of nature, by the insensible parts of which bodies
are composed, and by their different situation, size, figure,
motion, or rest, and by the pores which traverse these
parts, and which allow or arrest the passage of other mat
ters, they believe that we speak to them only of chimeras,
although we tell them nothing but what may be conceived
very easily; and, by a strange perversion of mind, the facility
even with which these things are comprehended induces
them to believe that they are not the true causes of natural
effects, but that these are more hidden and mysterious ; so
that they are more disposed to believe those who explain
them by principles which they cannot conceive than those
who employ only principles which they can understand.

And it is, again, humorous enough, that when we speak
to them of insensible parts, they think themselves entitled
to reject them, because they can neither see nor touch
them ; while, however, they rest satisfied with substantial
forms, ponderosity, attractive virtue, &c., which they not
only never saw or touched, but which they cannot even
conceive.

CHAPTER VII.

OF SOME AXIOMS WHICH ARE IMPORTANT, AND WHICH MAY
BE EMPLOYED AS THE PRINCIPLES OP GREAT TRUTHS.

EVERY one allows that it is important to have in the
mind many axioms and principles, which, being clear and

326 AXIOMS WHICH MAY BE EMPLOYED [PAKT IV.

indubitable, may be employed as a foundation for obtain
ing a knowledge of things more obscure. But those which
are commonly given are of such little use that it is scarcely
worth while to know them ; for that which is called the
first principle of knowledge — it is impossible for the same
thing to be, and not to be — is very clear and certain ; but I
do not see how it can avail to furnish us with any know
ledge. I believe, therefore, that those which follow will
be of more use. I commence with that which we have
already explained.

1st AXIOM.

Everything which is contained in the clear and distinct idea
of a thing may be affirmed of it with truth.

2d AXIOM.

Existence (possible at least) is contained in the idea of every
thing ivhich we conceive clearly and distinctly.

For as soon as a thing is conceived clearly we cannot
but regard it able to be so, since it is only the contradic
tion which we find between our ideas, which leads us to
believe that a thing cannot be. Now there can be no con
tradiction in an idea when it is clear and distinct.

3d AXIOM.

Nothing cannot be the cause of anything.
Other axioms spring from this, which may be called its
corollaries ; such as the following : —

4th AXIOM, or 1st COROLLARY of the 3d.

No thing, nor any perfection of that thing actually existing,
can have nothing, or a thing non-existent, as the cause of its
existence.

5th AXIOM, or 2d COROLLARY of the 3d.

All the reality or perfection which is in a thing, is found,
formally or eminently, in its first and total cause.

CHAP. VII.] AS THE PRINCIPLES OF GREAT TRUTHS. 327

6th AXIOM, or 3d COROLLARY of the 3d.

Wo body is able to move itself, — that is to say, to give
itself motion when it has none.

This principle is so evident, naturally, that it caused the
introduction of substantial forms, and the real qualities of
heaviness and lightness ; for philosophers, seeing, on the
one hand, that it was impossible for that which was moved
to move itself, and being falsely persuaded, on the other,
that there was nothing without the stone which pushed
it downwards when it fell, felt themselves obliged to
distinguish two things in a stone — the matter which re
ceived the motion, and the substantial form, aided by the
accident of heaviness, which gave it. They did not, how
ever, observe, that thus they either fell into the difficulty
which they wished to avoid, if that form was at once
material, that is to say, a true matter, — or that, if it was
not matter, it must be a substance which is really distinct
from it ; which it was impossible for them to conceive
clearly, — at least, to conceive as a mind, that is, a substance
which thinks, which is truly the form of man, and not •
that of any other body.

7th AXIOM, or 4th COROLLARY of the 3d.

No body can move another, unless it is itself moved. For if
a body, being at rest, is unable to give itself motion, it is
still less able to give it to another body.

8th AXIOM.

We ought not to deny what is clear and evident because we
cannot comprehend ichat is obscure.

9th AXIOM.

It belongs to the nature of a finite mind, that it cannot com
prehend the infinite.

10th AXIOM.

The testimony of one infinitely powerful, infinitely wise, in-

328 RULES RELATING TO DEMONSTRATION. [PART IV.

finitely good, and infinitely truthful, ought to persuade our
minds more powerfully than the most convincing reasons.

For we ought to be more assured that he who is in
finitely intelligent cannot be deceived, and that he who is
infinitely good cannot deceive us, than we are that we are
not deceived in things the most clear.

These three last axioms are the ground of faith, of which
we shall say something hereafter.

llth AXIOM.

When those facts of which sense may easily judge are at
tested by a very great number of persons, of different times,
different nations, different interests, who affirm that they have
personally known them, and who cannot be suspected of having
conspired together to support a deception, we ought to consider
them as as well established and indubitable as though u-e had
seen them with our own eyes.

This is the ground of the greater part of our knowledge,
since the things which we know in this way are more
numerous by far than those which we know by our own
observation.

CHAPTER VIII.

OF THE RDLES WHICH RELATE TO DEMONSTRATION.

A TRUE demonstration requires two things : the one, that
there be nothing in the matter but what is certain and
indubitable ; the other, that there be nothing vicious in
the form of the argument. Now we shall certainly secure
both if we observe the two rules which have been laid down.
For there would be only what is true and certain in the
matter, if all the propositions which we employ as proofs

CHAP. VIII.] RULES RELATING TO DEMONSTRATION. 329

Either definitions of words which have been already
explained, which, being arbitrary, cannot be disputed :

Or axioms which have been granted, and which ought
not to have been assumed unless they were clear and
evident in themselves, according to the third rule :

Or propositions already demonstrated, and which have
become clear and evident by the demonstration which has
been given of them :

Or a construction of the thing itself which is in question,
when there may be any operation to perform, which ought
to be as indubitable as the rest, since this construction
ought to have been beforehand shown to be possible, if
there was any doubt as to whether it was so.

It is, therefore, clear, that by observing the first rule,
we shall never advance as a proof any proposition which
is not certain and evident.

It is also easy to show that we shall not sin against the
form of reasoning if we observe the second rule, which is,
always to avoid choosing the equivocation of terms by
mentally substituting the definitions which restrict and
explain their meaning.

For if we ever sin against the rules of syllogism, it is
by deceiving ourselves with the equivocation of some term,
and by taking it in one sense in one of the propositions,
and in another sense in the other ; which principally
happens in the middle term of a syllogism, the taking of
which in two different senses, in the two first propositions,
is the most common defect of vicious arguments. Now it
is clear that we shall avoid this defect by observing that
second rule.

Not but that there are still other vices of reasoning
besides that which springs from the equivocal meaning of
terms, but these it is almost impossible for a man of aver
age mind, and possessed of some knowledge, ever to fall
into, especially in speculative matters, and thus it would
be useless to give rules against these vices, and urge their
observance ; and it would indeed be frivolous, since the
application which would be given to these superfluous rules
might divert the attention which we ought to pay to things
more necessary. Thus we see that the geometers never
take any trouble about the form of their arguments, nor

330 DEFECTS IN THE METHOD OF GEOMETERS. [PART IT.

think of conforming to the rules of logic, without, however,
being at all defective in this particular, since it is done
naturally, without the need of study.

There is still an observation to be made about the pro
positions which need to be demonstrated : it is, that we
ought not to place amongst this number those which may
be so by the application of the rule of evidence to every
evident proposition ; for, if this were so, there would be
scarcely any axiom that would not need to be demon
strated, as they might almost all be by that proposition
which we have said may be taken as the foundation of all
evidence — Everything which we see to be contained in a clear
and distinct idea may be affirmed ivith truth. We may say,
for example : —

Everything which we see to be contained in a clear and distinct idea
may be affirmed with truth ;

Now we see clearly that the clear and distinct idea which we have of
a whole contains the being1 greater than its part ;

Therefore, we may affirm with truth that the whole is greater than
its part.

But though this proof may be very good, it is neverthe
less not necessary, because our mind supplies that major
without having any need to pay special attention to it,
and thus sees clearly and evidently that the whole is
greater than its part, without the need of any reflection as
to whence this evidence arises ; for it is one thing to know
a thing evidently, and another to know whence that evi
dence springs.

CHAPTER IX.

OF SOME DEFECTS WHICH ARE COMMONLY TO BE MET WITH
IN THE METHOD OF THE GEOMETERS.

WE have seen what of excellence the method of the
geometers possesses. We have reduced this method to
five rules, which we cannot too thoroughly fix in our

CHAP. IX.] DEFECTS IN THE METHOD OF GEOMETERS. 331

minds: and it must be confessed that there is nothing
more admirable than the discovery of so many hidden
things, and their demonstration, by reasons so strong and
so invincible, through the employment of so few rules : so
that, among all philosophers, to them alone belongs the
advantage of having banished from their schools and books
controversy and dispute.

Nevertheless, if we would judge of things without pre
judice, as we cannot take away from them the glory of
having followed a much more certain course for the dis
covery of truth than any others, so neither can we deny
that they have not fallen into some defects, which, though
they have not turned them aside from their end, have
nevertheless prevented them from reaching it by the short
est and most convenient route. I will endeavour to show
this by selecting from Euclid some examples of these
defects.

1st DEFECT.

Paying more attention to certainty than to evidence, and to the
conviction of the mind than to its enlightenment.

The geometers are worthy of all praise in seeking to
advance only what is convincing ; but it would appear
that they have not sufficiently observed, that it does not
suffice for the establishment of a perfect knowledge of any
thing, to be convinced that it is true, unless, beyond this,
we penetrate into the reasons, derived from the nature of
the thing itself, why it is true. For until we arrive at
this point, our mind is not fully satisfied, and still seeks
greater knowledge than this, which marks that it has not
yet a true knowledge. We may say that this defect is the
source of all the others which we shall notice ; and thus
it is not necessary to explain it further here, since we
shall speak of it sufficiently in what follows.

2d DEFECT.
Proving things ivhich have no need of proof.

The geometers maintain that it is not necessary to under
take the proof of what is clear of itself. They nevertheless

332 DEFECTS IN THE METHOD OP GEOMETERS. [PART IV.

often do it, because, being more bent on convincing the
mind than enlightening it, as we have said, they believe
that they shall convince it better by finding some proof of
those things even which are most evident, than by simply
proposing them, and leaving the mind to recognise their
evidence.

It is this which led Euclid to prove that the two sides
of a triangle are greater than a single one, although this
was evident from the very notion of a right line, which is
the shortest possible distance between two points, and the
natural measure of the distance from one point to another,
which it would not be if it were not also the shortest of
all lines which could be drawn from one point to another.

This is what led him, again, to make the following : —
To draw a line equal to a given line — not a postulate, but a
problem which must be demonstrated, although it is easy,
and indeed more so than to draw a circle having a given
radius.

This defect has arisen, no doubt, from its not having
been sufficiently considered that all the certainty and evi
dence of our knowledge in the natural sciences spring from
this principle : — That we may affirm of a thing all that is
contained in its clear and distinct idea. Whence it follows,
that when we need only, in order to recognise that an at
tribute is contained in an idea, to consider the idea simply,
without connecting it with others, it ought to be considered
as clear and evident, as we have already said above.

I know, indeed, that there are some attributes which
may be seen more easily in ideas than others, but I believe
that it is enough that they are able to be seen clearly with
a moderate attention, and that no man, with a rightly con
stituted mind, is able seriously to doubt them ; for those
propositions, which are derived thus from the simple con
sideration of ideas, to be regarded as principles which have
no need of proof, but, at most, of a little explanation. Thus
I maintain that we cannot pay much attention to the idea of
a right line without perceiving not only that its position
depends on two points alone (which Euclid has taken as
one of his postulates), but that we can also comprehend,
without trouble, and very clearly, that if a right line cut
another, and there are two points in the cutting line, each

CHAP. IX.] DEFECTS IN THE METHOD OF GEOMETERS. 333

of which is equally distant from two points in the line
which is cut, there will be no other point of the cutting
line which is not equally distant from these two points of
the line which is cut. Hence, it will be easy to determine
when a line is perpendicular to another without employing
either angle or triangle, which ought not to be treated of,
before the things which are demonstrated by perpendicu
lars alone, are well established.

It is also to be remarked that there are some excellent
geometers who employ, as principles, propositions less clear
than these : as Archimedes, who established his beautiful
demonstration on this axiom — That if two lines in the same
plane have their extremities common, and are bent or hollow
towards the same part, what is contained will be less than that
which contains.

It must be confessed that this defect of proving what
needs no proof does appear a very great one, and is not so
in itself; but it is important in its consequences, since it is
from this that the inversion of the natural order, of which
we shall speak below, springs ; — this desire of proving
what ought to be assumed as clear and evident of itself,
having often obliged the geometers to treat of things (in
order to employ them, as proofs, in what ought not to have
been proved) which, according to the order of nature,
should have been treated of afterwards.

3d DEFECT.

Demonstrating by Impossibility.

Those kind of demonstrations which show that a thing
is such, not by its principles, but by some absurdity which
would follow, if it were not so, are very common in
Euclid. It is clear, however, that while they may con
vince the mind, they do not enlighten it, which ought to be
the chief result of knowledge ; for our mind is not satisfied
unless it knows not only that a thing is, but why it is,
which cannot be learnt from a demonstration which re
duces it to the impossible.

Not that these demonstrations are to be altogether
rejected, for we may oftentimes employ them to prove

334 DEFECTS IN THE METHOD OP GEOMETERS. [PART IV.

negatives, which are properly only corollaries from other
propositions, either clear of themselves or demonstrated
before in another way ; and then that kind of demonstra
tion, by reducing them to the impossible, occupies the
place rather of an explanation than a new demonstration.

We may say, in fine, that these demonstrations are
allowable only when we are unable to furnish others, and
that it is a fault to employ them in proving what may be
positively proved. Now there are many propositions in
Euclid which he has only proved in this way which may
be otherwise proved without any great difficulty.

4th DEFECT.

Far-fetched Demonstrations.

This defect is very common among the geometers — they
take no trouble as to the quarter whence the proofs which
they furnish are obtained, provided they are convincing —
to prove things by foreign methods is, however, to prove
them but very imperfectly.

This will be better understood by some examples : —
Euclid I., prop. 5, proves that an isosceles triangle has
the two angles at its base equal, by prolonging equally the
sides of the triangle and making new triangles, which he
compares with the others.

But is it credible that a thing so easy of proof as the
equality of these angles required so much artifice to prove
it, as though anything would be more ridiculous than to
imagine that this equality depended on these foreign tri
angles, whereas, had the true order been observed, many
other ways existed of proving this same equality, much
shorter, easier, and more natural?

The 47th of the First Book, where it is proved that the
square of the base which contains a right angle, is equal
to the two squares of the sides, is one of the most admired
propositions of Euclid : it is, however, sufficiently clear
that the manner in which it is proved is not natural, since
the equality of the squares does not depend on the equality
of the triangles, which is taken as the mean in that de
monstration, but on the proportion of the lines, which may

CHAP. IX.] DEFECTS IN THE METHOD OF GEOMETERS. 335

be easily demonstrated without employing any other line
than that let fall from the point of the right angle on the
base.

All Euclid is full of these far-fetched demonstrations.

5th DEFECT.

Paying no attention to the true order of nature.

This is the greatest defect of the geometers.

They have fancied that there is scarcely any order for
them to observe, except that the first propositions may be
employed to demonstrate the succeeding ones. And thus,
disregarding the true rule of method, which is, always to
begin with things the most simple and general, in order to
pass from them to those which are more complex and par
ticular, they confuse everything, and treat pell-mell of lines
and surfaces, and triangles and squares, proving by figures
the properties of simple lines, and introducing a mass of
other distortions which disfigure that beautiful science.

The elements of Euclid are quite full of this defect.
After having treated of extension in the first four Books,
he treats generally of the proportions of all kinds of mag
nitudes in the Fifth. lie returns to extension in the Sixth,
and treats of numbers in the Seventh, Eighth, and Ninth,
and begins in the Tenth to speak again of extension. So
much for the general disorder ; but it is full of a mass of
confusion in detail. He commences the First Book by the
construction of an equilateral triangle, and, subsequently
(twenty-two propositions after), he gives the general means
for making any triangle of three given straight lines, pro
vided that two are greater than a single one, which involves
the particular construction of an equilateral triangle on a
given line.

He proves nothing of perpendicular and parallel lines,
except by triangles. He measures the dimension of surfaces
with that of lines.

He proves — Book I., proposition 16 — that, the side of
a triangle being prolonged, the exterior angle is greater
than either of the interior and opposite angles ; and, six
propositions further on, he proves that that exterior angle
is equal to the two opposite angles.

336 DEFECTS IN THE METHOD OF GEOMETERS. [PART IV.

It would be necessary to transcribe the whole of Euclid,
in order to give all the examples which might be found of
this confusion.

6th DEFECT.
Employing no divisions and partitions.

There is still another defect in the method of the geometers,
that of not employing divisions and partitions. It is not
that they do not mark all the species of the genera which
they treat of, but that they do this simply by defining the
term, and placing all the definitions one after another, with
out indicating that one genus has so many species, and
can have no more, because the general idea of the genus
can receive only so many differences, which would tend
to throw considerable light upon the nature of genus and
species.

For example, we find in the First Book of Euclid de
finitions of all the species of triangles. But who can
doubt that it would be much clearer to speak of them as
follows ?—

A triangle may be divided in relation to its sides, or in
relation to its angles.

( all equal, and it is called Equilateral.

For the sides are either < two only equal, and it is called Isosceles.
( all three unequal, and it is called Scalene.

'either I a^ *nree acute, and it is called Oxigon.
\ '' \ two only acute, and then the third is
The angles are 1.

(either I ri&nt> and ** is calle(l Rectangle.

' I obtuse, and it is called Amblygon.

It is, indeed, much better not to give the division of
triangles before having explained and demonstrated the
properties of triangle in general, from which we shall have
learnt that at least two angles of a triangle must be acute,
because the three together are only equal to two right
angles.

The defect comes under that rule which enjoins that we
do not treat of, or even define, the species before the genus

CHAP. X.] REPLY TO THE GEOMETERS. 337

ia well known, especially when there are many things
which may be said of the genus without speaking of the
species.

CHAPTER X.

REPLY TO WHAT IS SAID BY THE GEOMETERS ON THIS
SUBJECT.

THERE are some geometers who think they have justified
these defects by saying that they have paid no attention to
them, that it is enough for them that they say nothing
which they do not prove in a convincing manner, and that
they are, in this way, assured of having found the truth,
which is their sole aim.

It must be allowed, moreover, that these defects are not
so considerable, but that we are compelled to acknow
ledge that of all human sciences there are none which have
been better handled than those which are comprised under
the general name of mathematics. All that we maintain
is that something may be added to them, in order to render
them more perfect, and that, though the principal thing that
ought to be considered is to advance nothing but what is
true, it is, nevertheless, to be desired that more attention
had been paid to the more natural manner by which truth
is conveyed to the mind.

For the geometers may say, if they please, that they do
not care about the true order, or whether they prove by
near or distant ways, provided that they accomplish what
they seek, which is to convince ; but they cannot change,
in this way, the nature of our mind, nor prevent us from
having a knowledge much more accurate, more entire and
complete, of things which we know through their true
causes and principles, than of those which are proved to
us only through foreign and indirect ways.

Q

338 REPLY TO THE GEOMETERS. [PART IV.

It is indubitable, indeed, that we learn with incompar
ably greater facility, and retain much better, what has been
taught us in the true order ; because the ideas which have
a. natural connection arrange themselves much better in
our memory, and suggest each other much more readily.

We may say, indeed, that Avhat we have once known,
by having penetrated into its true reason, is not retained by
the memory but by the judgment, and that it becomes so
thoroughly our oAvn that we are unable to forget it ; where
as what we know only by demonstrations which are
not founded on natural reasons, escapes us easily, and is
with difficulty recovered when it has once passed from
memory, because our mind furnishes us with no means of
recovering it.

It must be conceded, therefore, that it is in itself much
better to observe this order than not to observe it. But all
that can be said with justice is, that a small inconvenience
must be neglected when we cannot avoid it without falling
into a greater ; that thus it is an inconvenience that the true
order is not observed, but that it is better, nevertheless, to
disregard it than to fail of proving invincibly that which we
advance, and to expose ourselves to the danger of falling into
error and paralogism, by seeking after proofs which are
more natural, but which are not so convincing nor so free
from all suspicion of deception.

This reply is very reasonable ; and I confess that we
must prefer, in all things, the certainty of not being de
ceived, and that the true order must be neglected if we
cannot follow it without losing much of the force of the
demonstrations, and exposing ourselves to error. But I
do not concede that it is impossible to observe both ; and
I believe that a work on the elements of geometry can be
made in which all things should be treated in their natural
order, all propositions proved in very simple and natural
ways, and in which, nevertheless, everything should be
most clearly demonstrated. (This has since been accom
plished in the NEW ELEMENTS OF GEOMETRY, and particu
larly in the new edition which has lately appeared.)

CHAP. XI.] RULES FOR THE METHOD OF THE SCIENCES. 339

CHAPTER XL

THE METHOD OF THE SCIENCES REDUCED TO EIGHT
PRINCIPAL RULES.

WE may conclude from what has been said, that in order
to have a method which should be still more perfect than
that which is in use amongst the geometers, we ought to
add two or three to the rules which were given in the
second chapter, so that all these rules may be reduced to
eight : —

Of which the two first relate to ideas, and may be re
ferred to the First Part of this Logic ;

The third and fourth relate to axioms, and may be re
ferred to the Second Part;

The fifth and sixth to reasonings, and may be referred
to the Third Part ;

And the two last relate to order, and may be referred
to the Fourth Part.

Two Rules touching Definitions.

1. Not to leave any terms at all obscure or equivocal,
without defining them.

2. To employ in definitions only terms perfectly well
known, or already explained.

Two Rules for Axioms.

3. To demand as axioms only things perfectly evident.

4. To receive as evident that which requires only a
slight attention to the recognition of its truth.

Tico Rules for Demonstrations.

5. To prove all propositions which are at all obscure by
employing in their proof only the definitions which have

340 RULES FOR THE METHOD OF THE SCIENCES. [PART IT.

preceded, or the axioms which have been granted, or the
propositions which have been already demonstrated.

6. Always to avoid the equivocation of terms, by sub
stituting mentally the definitions which restrict and explain
their meaning.

Two Rules for Method.

7. To treat of things, as far as possible, in their natural
order, by commencing with the most general and simple,
and explaining everything which belongs to the nature of
the genus before passing to its particular species.

8. To divide, as far as possible, every genus into all its
species, every whole into all its parts, and every difficulty
into all its cases.

I have added to these two rules — as far as possible, —
because there are, indeed, many occasions on which we
cannot rigorously observe them, either because of the
limits of the human mind, or of those which we are obliged
to set to every science.

This occasions us to treat often of a species when we
cannot treat of everything which belongs to the genus : as
we treat of a circle in common geometry without saying
anything in detail of the curved line wrhich is its genus,
which we are satisfied with simply defining.

Neither can we explain, in relation to a genus, every
thing which might be said of it, since this would often be
too long ; but it is enough that we say of it all that we
intend to say before passing to its species.

But I believe that a science cannot be treated perfectly,
except great attention be paid to these two last rules, as
well as to the others, and that we should consent to dis
pense with them only on necessity, or to secure some great
advantage.

CHAP. XII.] WHAT WE KNOW THROUGH FAITH. 341

CHAPTER XII.

OF WHAT WE KNOW THROUGH FAITH, WHETHER HUMAN OR
DIVINE.

ALL that we have said hitherto relates to sciences purely
human, and to knowledges which are founded on the
evidence of reason. But before finishing, it is right to
speak of another kind of knowledge, which is often not
less certain or less evident in its manner, — that, to wit,
which we derive from authority.

For there are two general ways which lead us to believe
that a thing is true : The first is, the knowledge which
we have of it ourselves, from having known and sought
out its truth, whether by our senses or by our reason.
This may be called, generally, reason, since the senses
themselves depend on the judgment of reason, — or science,
taking that term more generally than it is taken in the
schools, for all the knowledge of an object derived from
the object itself.

The other way is, the authority of persons worthy of
credence, who assure us that such a thing is, although we
ourselves know nothing about it. This is called faith or
credence, according to the expression of St Augustine —
Quod scimus debemus rationi; quod credimus auctoritate.

But as this authority may be of two kinds — of God, or
of men, — there are also two kinds of faith — divine and
human.

Divine faith cannot be exposed to error, since God can
neither deceive nor be deceived.

Human faith is of itself subject to error, since every
man is a liar according to the Scripture, and it is possible
that he who assures us that a thing is true may be himself
deceived. Nevertheless, as we have indicated already,
there are things which we know only through human
faith, of which we are as certainly and indubitably assured
as though we had received mathematical demonstrations of

342 WHAT WE KNOW THROUGH FAITH, [PART IV.

them : as what we know through the continued relation of
so many persons, that it is morally impossible that they
could have conspired together to maintain the same thing,
if it had not been true. For example, men have consider
able difficulty, naturally, in conceiving that the antipodes
exist : nevertheless, though we have never been there, and
know nothing of them save through human faith, he would
be a fool who did not believe in them. In the same way,
he must have lost his senses who could doubt whether
Caesar, Pompey, Cicero, Yirgil, ever existed, and whether
they were not fictitious personages, like those of Amadis.

It is true that it is often very difficult to mark precisely
when human faith has reached this certainty, and when it
has not. And this leads men to fall into two opposite
errors : the one, that of those who believe too readily, on
the slightest rumour ; and the other, of those who foolishly
oppose the whole force of their mind against the belief of
the best attested things, when these offend their prejudices.
We may, however, mark certain limits which must be
passed in order to secure this human certainty, and others
beyond which it is certainly possessed, — leaving a mean
between these two kinds of limits which approaches more
to certainty or uncertainty, according as it comes nearer
to the one or to the other.

And if we compare together the two general ways which
lead us to believe a thing — reason and faith — it is certain
that faith always supposes some reason. For, as St
Augustine says, in his 122d letter, and in many other
places, we could never have been led to believe that which
is above our reason, if reason itself had not persuaded us
that there are things which we do well to believe, though
we are unable as yet to comprehend them. This is prin
cipally true in relation to divine faith, because true reason
teaches us that God, being truth itself, cannot deceive in
that which he reveals to us of his nature and his mysteries :
from which it appears, that though we are obliged to bring
our understanding into captivity to the obedience of Jesus
Christ, as St Paul says, we nevertheless do not do this
blindly and unreasonably, which is the origin of all false
religions, but with the knowledge of the cause, and be
cause it is a reasonable action to bring ourselves thus into

CHAP. XII.] WHETHER HUM AX OR DIVINE. 34o

captivity to the authority of God, when he has given us
sufficient proofs — such as the miracles, and other extraor
dinary events — which oblige us to believe that it is himself
who has discovered to men the truths which we ought to
believe.

In the second place, it is certain that divine faith ought
to have more weight with us than our own reason, because
reason itself shows us that we ought always to prefer that
which is more certain to that which is less, and because
that is more certain which God says is true, than that of
which our reason persuades us, and because it is more
possible for our reason to be deceived than for God to
deceive us.

Nevertheless, if we consider things with minute atten
tion, we shall find, that what we evidently see, either by
reason, or by the faithful report of the senses, is never
opposed to what divine faith teaches us ; but that what
leads us to imagine this is, that we do not observe the point
where the evidence of our reason and senses must terminate.
For example, our senses show us clearly, in the Eucharist,
the roundness and the whiteness [of the wai'er] ; but our
senses do not inform us whether it is the substance of
bread which causes our eyes to perceive the roundness
and the whiteness : and thus faith is not contrary to the
evidence of our senses, when it tells us that it is not the
substance of bread any longer, having been changed to the
body of Jesus Christ by the mystery of transubstantiation,
and that we only now see the images and appearances of
bread which remain, although the substance is no longer
there.

Reason, indeed, shows us that the same body cannot be
at the same time in different places, nor two bodies in the
same place ; but this ought to be understood of the natural
condition of bodies, because it would be a Avant of reason
to imagine that our mind, being finite, is able to coni-
prehend the extent of the power of God, which is in
finite : and thus, when the heretics, in order to destroy
the mysteries of faith, as the Trinity, the Incarnation, and
the Eucharist, oppose to them these pretended impossi
bilities derived from reason, they manifestly, in this very
act, separate themselves from reason, by pretending that

344 BULES FOR BELIEF OF THINGS [PART IV.

they are able to comprehend, by their mind, the infinite
extent of the power of God. It is sufficient, however, to
say, in reply to all these objections, what St Augustine
said, on the same subject, of the penetration of bodies : —

Sed nova sunt, sed insolita sunt, sed contra naturce cursum
notissimum sunt, quia magna, quia mira, quia divina, et eo
magis vera, certa,Jirma.

CHAPTEE XIII.

SOME RULES FOR THE RIGHT DIRECTION OF REASON IN THE
BELIEF OF THINGS WHICH DEPEND ON HUMAN TESTIMONY.

THE most common use of good sense, and of that power of
the soul which enables us to discriminate truth from false
hood, is not in the speculative sciences, to which so few
are obliged to devote themselves ; but there is scarcely
any occasion on which we more frequently employ it, and
on which it is more necessary, than in the judgments
which we form about every- day affairs.

I do not speak of the judgment which we form as to
whether an action is good or bad, worthy of praise or of
blame, since it belongs to morality to regulate this, but
simply that which we make touching the truth or false
hood of human events, which alone is regarded by logic :
whether we consider them as past, as when we seek to
know whether we ought to believe them or not ; or
whether we consider them as future, as when we dread or
desire that they will happen, which regulates our hopes
and fears.

Some reflections may be made on this subject, which,
perhaps, may not be without their use, and which may at
least help us to avoid the faults into which many fall,
from not having sufficiently regarded the rules of rea
soning.

CHAP. XIII.] DEPENDING ON HUMAN TESTIMONY. 345

The first reflection is, that a wide difference must be
made between two kinds of truths : one, which relates
simply to the nature of things, and their unchangeable
essence, independently of their existence ; the others, which
relate to things existing, and especially to human accidents
and events, which may or may not be, when we inquire
about the future, but which cannot be otherwise, when we
inquire about the past. All this is to be understood in
relation to their proximate causes, apart from their order
immutable in the providence of God, — since, on the one
hand, this does not prevent contingency, and, on the
other, being unknown, it cannot at all contribute to our
belief of things.

In the first kind of truths, since everything is necessary,
nothing is true which is not true universally ; and thus we
may conclude that a thing is false, if it is false in a single
case.

But if \ve think of following the same rules in the belief
of human events, we shall always, except by accident, judge
ialsely, and make a thousand false reasonings about them.

For these events being contingent in their nature, it
would be ridiculous to seek in them necessary truth : thus
a man would be altogether unreasonable who should believe
nothing, except we were to prove to him that it was
absolutely necessary that the thing should have happened
in that way.

And he would be no less unreasonable who should
endeavour to make us believe anything — as, for instance,
that the king of China was converted to the Christian
religion — for this reason alone, that it was not impossible ;
for another who should assert the contrary might employ
the very same reason, and it is clear, therefore, that this
could not determine us to believe one rather than the other.

It must, therefore, be laid down as a certain and indu
bitable maxim on this subject, that the simple possibility
of an event is no sufficient reason for our belief of it, — and
that we may also have reason to believe it, although we
do not judge it to be impossible for the contrary to have
happened ; so that, of two events, I may have ground for
believing the one, and disbelieving the other, although I
believe both possible.

346 RULES FOR BELIEF OF THINGS [PART IV.

But what, tlien, shall determine me to believe the one
rather than the other, if I judge both possible ? It will be
according to the following maxim : —

In order for me to judge of the truth of an event, and
for me to believe it or not to believe it, it is not necessary
to consider it abstractly, and in itself, as we should con
sider a proposition in geometry, but it is necessary to pay
attention to all the circumstances which accompany it,
internal as well as external. I call internal circumstances
those which belong to the fact itself, and external, those
which belong to the persons by whose testimony we are
led to believe it. This being done, if all the circumstances
are such, that it never or rarely happens that the like cir
cumstances are the concomitants of falsehood, our mind is
led, naturally, to believe that it is true ; and it is right to
do so, especially in the conduct of life, which does not
demand greater certainty, and which must often rest
satisfied in many circumstances with the greatest pro
bability.

And if, on the contrary, these circumstances are such as
we very often find in connection wilh falsehood, reason
determines, either that we remain in suspense, or that we
consider as false what has been told us, when there is
no appearance of its being true, although it may not be
an utter impossibility.

It is asked, for example, whether the history of the
baptism of Constantine by St Sylvester is true or false.
Baronius believes it to be true ; Cardinal Perron, Bishop
Spondanus, Father Petavius, Father Morinus, and the most
able portion of the church, believe it to be false. If we
confine ourselves to its simple impossibility, we have no
right to reject it, for it contains nothing absolutely impos
sible ; and it is possible, indeed, speaking absolutely, that
Eusebius, who testifies to the contrary, lied in order to
favour the Arians, and that the fathers who followed were
deceived by his testimony; but if the rule be employed which
we have established, which is, to consider what are the
circumstances of the one or the other, and which of these
have the most marks of truth, we shall find that they are
those of the last ; for, on the one hand, we cannot rely on
the testimony of such a fabulous writer as the author of

CHAP. XIII.] DEPENDING ON HUMAN TESTIMONY. 347

the acts of St Sylvester, who is the only ancient authority
we have for the baptism of Constantino at Rome ; and, on
the other, it is not at all probable that a man so able as
Eusebius would have ventured to utter a falsehood in
relating a thing so celebrated as the baptism of the first
emperor who had given liberty to the church, and which
would have been known to all the world when he wrote,
since this was only four or five years after the death of that
emperor.

There is, nevertheless, an exception to this rule, in which
we ought to be contented with possibility and probability.
This is, when a fact, which is otherwise sufficiently at
tested, is opposed by the disagreements and apparently
conflicting statements of other histories ; for in this case it
is sufficient that the explanations which we give of these
contrarieties be possible and probable ; and we should act
against reason were we to demand positive proofs of it,
because the fact itself being sufficiently proved, it is not
just to require that all its circumstances be proved in the
same Avay, otherwise we might doubt a thousand well-
established histories, which we cannot reconcile with others
which are not less so, except by conjectures which it is
impossible to prove positively.

We cannot, for example, reconcile what is related in the
books of the Kings, and in those of the Chronicles, of the
years of the reigns of the different kings of Judah arid
Israel, except by giving to some of these kings two com
mencements of their reign — the one during the life, and
the other after the death, of their fathers ; and if it is
asked what proof AVC have that such a king reigned some
time with his father, it must be confessed that we have no
positive proof of this, but it is enough that it is a very
possible thing, and that it often happened on other occa
sions, to justify us in supposing it as a circumstance to
reconcile histories otherwise very true.

Hence, there is nothing more absurd than the efforts
which have been made by some heretics, in this last age,
to prove that St Peter was never at Rome. They cannot
deny that this truth is attested by all ecclesiastical authors,
and even the most ancient — as Papias, St Dennis of Co
rinth, Caius, St Irenaius, Tertullian — without being able to

348 BELIEF OF MIRACLES. [PART IV.

find any who have denied it ; and they imagine, neverthe
less, that they can destroy it by conjectures — as, for ex
ample, that St Paul has not mentioned St Peter in his
epistles written from Rome. We may reply to them that
St Peter might have been then away from Rome, because
it is not maintained that he was so settled there but that
he might often leave it to go and preach the gospel in other
places. They reply that this is utterly without proof. This
is irrelevant, because the fact which they dispute being one
of the most assured truths of ecclesiastical history, it is for
those who dispute it to show that it is contrary to the
Scripture, and it is for those who maintain it to resolve
these pretended contrarieties as we do those of Scripture
itself, in which we have shown that the possibility suffices.

CHAPTER XIV.

APPLICATION OF THE PRECEDING RULE TO THE BELIEF OF
MIRACLES.

THE rule which has been explained is, without doubt, very
important for the right direction of reason in the belief of
particular facts ; and it must be observed that, in relation
to these, we are in danger of falling into the dangerous
extremes of credulity and scepticism.

There are some, for example, who make it a point of
conscience to question no miracle, because they think they
would be obliged to question all if they question any, and
they persuade themselves that it is enough for them to
know that everything is possible with God, to believe
everything which is told them as the effects of his omni
potence.

Others, on the contrary, foolishly imagine that strength
of mind is displayed in doubting of all miracles, without
having any other reason for doing so, except that some are

CHAP. XIV.] BELIEF OF MIRACLES. 349

often reported which are not found true, and that they
have no more reason to believe the one than the other.

The disposition of the former is much better than that
of the latter ; but it is true, nevertheless, that the reasoning
of both is equally bad.

Both parties fall back on common places. The first rest
on the power and goodness of God, on certain miracles
Avhich they bring to prove those which are doubtful, and
on the blindness of the libertines, who will believe nothing
but what is proportionate to their reason. All this is very
good in itself, but very feeble when adduced to persuade
us of any miracle in particular, since God does not do all
that he is able to do ; it is no argument that a miracle
happened from what had happened like it on other occa
sions, and we may be very well disposed to believe what
is above reason, without being obliged to believe all that
men choose to relate to us as being above reason.

The last rest on common places of another kind. " Truth,"
says one of them, " and error are alike in countenances,
carriage, style, and demeanour — we regard them with the
same eye. I have seen the birth of many miracles in my
time. Though they were strangled in their birth, we may
yet foresee the train which they would have had if they
had lived to manhood ; for it is only to find the end of the
thread, and, wander as far as we may, it is much farther
from nothing to the smallest thing in the world than from
it to the greatest. Now the first who were deluded at the
commencement of the extravagance, when they came to
spread their story, discovered, by the opposition which
they met with, where the difficulty of persuasion lay, and
supplied, without scruple, what was wanting to produce
conviction. Thus particular error first produces public
error ; and in its course afterwards, public error produces
particular error. And thus, also, this fabric of falsehood
is built up in such a way, that the most distant witness
understands the matter better than he who is near, and
the last informed is more thoroughly convinced than the
first."

This discourse is ingenious, and may be useful to re
strain us from being carried away with all kinds of rumours.
But it would be extravagant to conclude generally from it

350 BELIEF OF MIRACLES. [PART IV.

that we ought to suspect all that is said of miracles. For
it is plain that it relates rather to what we know only
through vulgar rumours, without inquiring into their ori
gin ; and, it must he confessed that we have no good
ground to be assured of what we know only in this way.

But who does not see that we may make also a common
place opposed to this which would be, at least, as well
founded ? For as there are some miracles which may be
found to have little truth, if we remount to their source, there
are also others which are destroyed in the memory of men,
or which find little credit in their mind, because they will not
take the trouble to inform themselves of them. Our mind
is not subject to one kind of malady alone, it is exposed to
different and conflicting kinds ; there is a foolish simplicity
which believes tilings the least credible ; but there is also
a foolish presumption which condemns, as false, everything
which passes beyond the narrow limits of the mind. We
have often curiosity about trifles and none about important
things. False histories flourish everywhere, and the most
faithful have no circulation.

Few people know the miracle which happened in our
time at Faremoutier, in the person of a nun so blind that
the form of her eye scarcely remained, who recovered her
sight in a moment by touching the relics of St Fara, as I
know from the person who saw her both before and
after.

St Augustine says that there were in his time many
miracles most certain, which were known to few people,
and which, although very remarkable and astonishing, did
not pass from one end of the city to the other. This led
him to describe and relate before the people those which
he had found true ; and he remarks in the Twenty-second
Book of the City of God, that there happened, in the single
city of Hippo, near seventy, within two years after the
building of a chapel in honour of St Stephen, besides many
others which he had not described, which he testifies,
nevertheless, to have bi-en certainly known.

We see, therefore, clearly, that there is nothing less
reasonable than to guide ourselves by common places in
relation to these occurrences, whether in accepting all
miracles, or rejecting all, but that it is necessary to examine

CHAP. XIV.] BELIEF OF MIRACLES. 351

their particular circumstances, and the faithfulness and
knowledge of the witnesses who relate them.

Piety does not oblige a man of good sense to believe all
the miracles related in the Golden Legend, or in [Simeon]
Metaphrastes, since these authors are full of so many fables
that we have no ground to be assured of anything on their
testimony alone, as Cardinal Bellarmin lias readily con
fessed of the latter.

But I maintain that every man of good sense, though he
has no piety, ought to receive, as true, the miracles which
St Augustine relates in his Confessions, and in the City of
God, as having happened before his eyes, or of which he
testifies himself to have had most minute information from
the persons themselves to whom these things had hap
pened — as, for example, of a blind person cured at Milan,
in the presence of all the people, by touching the relics of
St Gervais and St Protais, and of which he says, in the
Twenty-second Book of the City of God, chap. 8, — " Mira-
cnluin fjuod j\Iediolard facttnn est cum illic essemtts, quando
illuminatm est ctvci/s, ad m/dtorum notitiam polait pervenire ;
qitia et grandis est civifas, et ibi ei-al tune iinperatort el immenso
popalo testc, res gcsta est, concnrrente ad corpora martyrum
Gervasii et Protasii."

Of a woman cured in Africa by flowers which had
touched the relics of St Stephen, as lie testifies in the same
place.

Of a lady of quality cured of a cancer (which had been
pronounced incurable) by the sign of the cross, which had
been made on it by one newly baptised, according to the
revelation which she had had.

Of an infant, who had died without baptism, being restored
to life by the prayers which his mother had presented to St
Stephen, saying to him with a strong faith, — Holy 'martyr,
restore to me my son. Thou knowest that I only ask his life, in
order that lie may not be for ever separated from God. That
saint relates this as a thing of which he was quite assured,
in a sermon which he preached to his people on the sub
ject of another very remarkable miracle which had hap
pened in the church at the very time in which he was
preaching, which he describes at length in that part of the
City of God.

352 BELIEF OF MIRACLES. [PABT IV.

He says that seven brothers and three sisters, of an
honourable family of Cesarea in Cappadocia, having been
cursed by their mother for an injury which they had done
her, God punished them with a disease through which
they were continually, even in sleep, agitated by fearful
trembling all over the body, which was so deformed, that,
not being able to endure the sight of those who knew
them, they had all left their own country to go in different
directions, and that thus one of the brothers, called Paul,
and one of the sisters, called Palladia, had come to Hippo,
and, being noticed by all the city, the cause of their mis
fortune had been learnt from them ; that, the day before
Easter, the brother, praying to God before the gates of the
chapel of St Stephen, fell all at once into a stupor, during
which it was observed that he trembled no longer, and
being, when he awoke, perfectly well, there arose in the
church a great shout from the people, who praised God
for that miracle, and who ran to St Augustine (who was
preparing to say mass), to tell him what had happened.

"After," says he, "the cries of rejoicing were over, and
the holy scripture had been read, I said little to them on
the festival and on this great subject of rejoicing, because
I wished rather to leave them, not to hear, but to contem
plate the eloquence of God in that divine work. I then
led away with me the brother who had been cured ; I
made him recount all his history ; I compelled him to
write it ; and on the morrow I promised the people that I
would cause him to relate it the day after. Thus, the
third day after Easter, having placed the brother and the
sister on the step of the rood loft, in order that the people
might see in the sister, who still had that fearful trembling,
the malady from which the brother had been delivered by
the goodness of God, I made him read the story of their
history before the people, and let them go. I then began
to preach on this subject (the sermon which is the 323d),
and all at once, while I was still speaking, a great cry of
joy arose from the side of the chapel, and the sister was
brought to me, who (having gone from me into an aisle),
had been perfectly cured in the same way as her brother,
which caused such joy amongst the people that it was
scarcely possible to bear the shout which they made."

CHAP. XIV.] BELIEF OF MIRACLES. 353

I wished to relate all the particulars of this miracle, in
order to convince the most incredulous that they would be
guilty of folly in questioning its truth, as well as that of
the many others which this saint relates in the same place.
For, supposing the things to have happened which he re
lates, all reasonable persons must acknowledge the finger
of God in them ; and thus all that would be left to the in
credulous would be to question the testimony of St Augus
tine himself by imagining that he altered the truth, in
order to give authority to the Christian religion in the
minds of the pagans. Now this cannot be said with the
slightest colour of truth.

Firstly, because it is not probable that a wise man
would have attempted to lie about things so public, in
which he would have been convicted of falsehood by a
multitude of witnesses, which would have brought disgrace
on the Christian religion. Secondly, because there never
was any one a greater enemy to falsehood than this saint,
especially in matters of religion, having established through
whole books, not only that it is never permissible to lie,'
but that it is an awful crime to do so, under the pretext of
converting men more easily to the faith thereby.

Hence, it must produce excessive astonishment to see
that the heretics of the pi'esent time, regarding St Augus
tine as a very intelligent and sincere man, have not con
sidered the manner in which they speak of the invocation
of saints and the veneration of relics as a superstitious
worship derived from idolatry, and tending to the ruin of
all religion ; for it is plain that we take away from him
one of his most solid foundations when we take away from
true miracles the authority which they ought to have in
the confirmation of the truth ; and it is clear that the
authority of these miracles is utterly destroyed when we
say that God works them in return for superstitious and
idolatrous worship. Now this is truly what the heretics
do, in treating, on the one hand, the reverence which the
catholics render to saints and to their relics, as a criminal
superstition ; and not being able to deny, on the other, that
the greatest friends of God, such as was (by their own con
fession) St Augustine, have assured us that God has cured
incurable diseases, opened the eyes of the blind, and re-

354 BELIEF OP EVENTS. [PART IV.

stored the dead to life, as a reward for the devotion of those
who have invoked the saints and reverenced their relics.

Indeed, this consideration alone ought to lead every man
of good sense to acknowledge the falsity of the pretended
reformed religion.

I have enlarged somewhat on this celebrated example,
of the judgment which we ought to make on the truth of
facts, in order that the rule may be employed in similar
occurrences, because we fall into the same error in relation
to them. Each one thinks that it is enough, in order to
decide on them, to make a common place which is often
wholly composed of maxims which, so far from being uni
versally true, are often not even probable, when they
are joined with the particular circumstances of the facts
which \ve examine. It is necessary to unite these circum
stances, and not to separate them, since it often happens
that a fact which is scarcely probable in connection with
a single circumstance, which is commonly a mark of false
hood, must be reckoned certain in connection Avith other
circumstances, and that, on the contrary, a fact which may
appear to us true in connection with a given circumstance
which is commonly a mark of truth, ought to be judged
false in connection with others, which destroy this, as we
shall explain in the following chapter.

CHAPTER XV.

ANOTHER REMARK ON THE SUBJECT OF THE BELIEF OF
EVENTS.

THERE is still another very important remark to be made
on the belief of events. It is, that amongst the circum
stances which we must consider, in order to determine
whether we ought to believe them or not, there are some
which may be called common circumstances, because they

CHAP. XV.] BELIEF OF EVENTS. 355

are such as in the greater number of facts are found far
more often connected with truth than with falsehood ;
and then, if these are not counterbalanced by other parti
cular circumstances, which weaken or destroy in our
minds the motives of belief derived from these common
circumstances, we have reason to believe that these events
are, if not certainly true, at least very probably so, which
is sufficient when we are obliged to judge of them ; for, as
we ought to be contented with moral certainty in things
which are not susceptible of metaphysical certainty, so, also,
when we are not able to obtain complete moral certainty,
the best thing we can do, when we are obliged to take
some side, is to embrace the most probable, since it would
be an outrage on reason to do otherwise.

And if, on the contrary, these common circumstances
are found connected with other particular circumstances,
Avhich destroy in our mind, as we have said, the motives
of belief derived from these common circumstances, either
because they are themselves such that the like are very
rarely accompanied with falsehood, we have then no longer
the same reason to believe that event, but cither our mind
remains in suspense if the particular circumstances only
lessen the weight of the common circumstances, or we are
led to believe that the fact is false, if they are such as are
commonly the marks of falsehood. The following example
may explain this remark.

It is a common circumstance for most deeds to be signed
by two notaries, that is to say, by two public persons who
have generally great interest in not being guilty of false
hood, inasmuch as they have not only their conscience and
their honour, but their fortune and their livelihood, at
stake. This consideration alone is sufficient, if AVC know
no other particulars about a contract, to believe that it is
not ante-dated, not that it may not have been ante-dated,
but because it is certain, that of a thousand contracts
there are nine hundred and ninety-nine which are not
so ; so that it is incomparably more probable that the
contract which we suspect, is one of the nine hundred and
ninety-nine, than that it is the solitary one among the
thousand which may be found ante-dated. That if the
probity of the notaries who have signed it is perfectly well

356 BELIEF OP EVENTS. [PART IV.

known to me, I may conclude, then, most certainly, that
they have not committed a forgery.

But if to this common circumstance of being signed by
two notaries, which is a sufficient reason, when it is not
opposed by others, for trusting in the date of the contract,
other particular circumstances are added, as that these
notaries were notorious for being without honour and
conscience, and that they might have had considerable
interest in that falsification ; this, though it may not lead
me to conclude that the contract is ante-dated, will, never
theless, diminish the weight which, without this, the sig
nature of the two notaries would have had on my mind
to induce me to believe that it is not so. And if, beyond
this, I am able to discover other positive proofs of this
ante-dating, either by witnesses, or very strong arguments,
— such as would be the inability of a man to lend twenty
thousand crowns, from the fact of his not having a
hundred when he engaged to do so, — I should then
be determined to believe that there was falsity in the
contract, and it would then be most unreasonable to at
tempt to compel me either to believe that the contract was
not ante-dated, or to confess that I had been wrong in sup
posing that others in which I had not seen the same marks
of falsity were not so, since they might have been like that one.

We may apply all this to subjects which often give rise
to disputes among the doctors. A question arises as to
whether a book has been really written by the author
whose name it has always borne, or whether the acts of a
council are true or suppositious.

It is plain that the presumption is in favour of an author
who has for a long time held possession of a work, and of
the truth of the acts of a council, which we have always
read of, and that the reasons must be considerable which
should induce us to believe the contrary, notwithstanding
that presumption.

Hence, a very able man of our time, having endeavoured
to show that the letter of St Cyprian to Pope Stephen on
the subject of Martin, bishop of Aries, was not written by
that holy martyr, has not been able to convince the learned,
his conjectures not having appeared strong enough to take
away from St Cyprian the piece which has always borne

CHAP. XV.] BELIEF OF EVENTS. 357

his name, which perfectly resembles in style his other
works.

It is in vain, also, that Blondel and Saumaisius, not being
able to reply to the argument derived from the letters of
St Ignatius for the superiority of the bishop over the priests
from the commencement of the church, have endeavoured
to maintain that all these letters are suppositions, as they
have even been printed by Isaac Vossius and Usserius from
an ancient Greek manuscript in the library of Florence,
and they have been refuted by those even of their own
party, since, avowing as they do, that we have the very
letters which were cited by Eusebius, by St Jerome, by
Theodoret and Origen, there is no likelihood of the letters
of St Ignatius having been received by St Polycarp, that
these true letters should have disappeared, and false ones
have supplied their places in the time which elapsed be
tween St Polycarp and Origen, or Eusebius ; besides which,
these letters of St Ignatius which we now have, have a
certain character of holiness and simplicity so in harmony
with those apostolic times, that they vindicate themselves
against all these vain accusations of fabrication and false
hood.

Again, all the difficulties which Cardinal Perron has
proposed against the letter of the council of Africa, touch
ing the appellations of the holy see, have not prevented
any from believing now, as formerly, that it was truly
written by that council.

But there are, nevertheless, other occasions on which
the particular reasons avail against that general reason of
long possession.

Thus, although the letter of St Clement to St James,
bishop of Jerusalem, was translated by Ruffinus, nearly
thirteen centuries ago, and was alleged to have been writ
ten by St Clement by a council of France, more than
twelve centuries ago, it is difficult to avoid the conclusion
that it is suppositions, since that holy bishop of Jerusalem
having suffered martyrdom before St Peter, it is impossible
that St Clement could have written to him after the death
of St Peter, as that letter supposes.

So, again, though the Commentaries on St Paul, attri
buted to St Ambrose, were quoted under his name by a

358 JUDGING OF FUTURE EVENTS. [PART IT.

vast number of authors, and the imperfect work on St
Matthew under that of St Chrysostom ; every one, never
theless, is convinced now that they were not by these
saints, but by other ancient authors, involved in many errors.

Finally, the acts which we have of the council of Sin-
nessa, under Marcellinus, of the two or three of Rome,
under St Sylvester, and of another at Rome, under Sextus
the Thii'd, would be sufficient to convince us of the reality
of these councils if they contained nothing but what was
probable and in harmony with the time at which they
were said to have been held ; but they contain so much that
is unreasonable, that does not agree with those times, that
the probability of their being false and suppositions is great.

Such are some of the remarks which may be made in
relation to these kinds of judgments ; but it must not be
imagined that they will avail to preserve us always from
being deceived. All that they can do, at most, is to enable
us to avoid the more obvious errors, and to accustom the
mind not to allow itself to be carried away by common
places, which, while embodying some general truth, are,
nevertheless, false on many particular occasions, which is
one of the most considerable sources of the errors of men.

CHAPTER XVI.

OF THE JUDGMENT WHICH WE SHOULD MAKE TOUCHING
FUTURE EVENTS.

THE rules which are employed in judging of past events
may easily be applied to those which are future ; for, as
we ought to believe that an event has probably happened
when the circumstances are certain, which we know are
commonly connected with that event, we ought also to be
lieve that it probably will happen when the present cir
cumstances are such as are commonly followed by such an
effect. It is thus that doctors may judge of the good or

CHAP. XVI.] JUDGING OF FUTURE EVENTS. 359

bad termination of diseases — captains of the distant events
of a war — and that we j udge, in the world, of the greater
part of contingent affairs.

But in relation to events in which we are engaged, and
which we may bring about or prevent to some extent by
our diligence in seeking or avoiding them, the majority
of people fall into an illusion which is the more de
ceptive in proportion as it appears to them more reason
able ; it is, that they regard only the greatness of the re
sult of the advantage which they hope for, or the disad
vantage which they fear, without considering at all the
probability which there is of that advantageous or disad
vantageous event befalling.

Thus, when they apprehend any great evil, as the loss
of their livelihood or their fortune, they think it the part
of prudence to neglect no precaution for preserving these ;
and if it is some great good, as the gain of a hundred
thousand crowns, they think they act wisely in seeking to
obtain it, if the hazard is a small amount, however little
likelihood there may be of success.

It was by a reasoning of this kind that a princess, having
heard that some persons had been crushed by the fall of a
ceiling, would never afterwards enter into a house without
having it previously examined ; and she was so persuaded
that she acted reasonably in this, that she considered all
who acted otherwise imprudent.

It is this reason also, probably, which induces many
persons to take such troublesome and unnecessary pre
cautions for the preservation of their health. It is this
which renders others distrustful to excess, even in the
smallest things, because, having been sometimes deceived,
they imagine that they will be so in all other things. It
is this which attracts so many to lotteries. Is it not a
most advantageous thing, say they, to gain twenty thou
sand crowns for a single crown ? Each believes that he
is the happy one to whom the prize will fall ; and no one
reflects, that if there be, for example, twenty thousand
crowns, it will be, perhaps, thirty thousand times more
probable that each individual will lose them, than that he
will gain them.

The defect of this reasoning is, that in order to judge of

360 JUDGING OF FUTURE EVENTS. [PART IV.

what we ought to do in order to obtain a good and to
avoid an evil, it is necessary to consider, not only the
good and evil in itself, but also the probability of its hap
pening and not happening, and to regard geometrically
the proportion which all these things have, taken together,
which may be illustrated by the following example : —

There are certain games in which ten persons lay down
a crown each, and where one only gains the whole, and
all the others lose : thus each of the players has only the
chance of losing a crown, and of gaining nine by it. If
we consider only the gain and loss in themselves, it might
appear that all have the advantage of it ; but it is necessary
to consider, further, that if each may gain nine crowns,
and there is only the hazard of losing one, it is also nine
times more probable, in relation to each, that he will lose
his crown, and not gain the nine. Thus each has for
himself nine crowns to hope for, one to lose, — nine degrees
of probability of losing a crown, and only one of gaining
the nine, which puts the matter on a perfect equality.

All games of this kind are equitable, as far as games
can be, and those which are beyond this proportion are
manifestly unjust ; and hence we may see that there is a
manifest injustice in those kinds of games which are called
lotteries, because the master of the lottery, taking generally
a tenth part of the whole as his perquisite, the whole
body of the players is duped, in the same way as if a man
should play in an equal game, — that is to say, one in which
there is as much probability of gain as of loss — ten pistoles
against nine. Now, if this is disadvantageous to all the
players, it is also so to each in particular, since it happens
hence that the probability of loss is greater than the pro
bability of gain — that the advantage which we hope for
does not surpass the disadvantage to which we are exposed,
which is that of losing what we laid down.

There is sometimes so little appearance of success in a
thing, that, however advantageous it may be, and however
small the stake for obtaining it, it is well not to hazard it.
Thus it would be folly to play twenty sous against twenty
livres, or against a kingdom, on the condition that we
could gain the stake only if an infant arranging at hazard
the letters from a printing-office, should compose all at

OH.VP. XVI.] JUDGING OF FUTURE EVENTS. o(>l

once the first twenty lines of Virgil's ^Eneid, — yet,
without thinking of it, there is no moment of our life in
which we do not hazard more than a prince would do, who
^hould risk his kingdom by playing on that condition.

These reflections may appear trifling, — and they are so,
indeed, if they stop here, — but we may turn them to very
important account ; and the principal use which should be
derived from them is that of making us more reasonable
in our hopes and fears. There are, for example, many
who have an excessive terror when they hear thunder. If
the' ihunder leads us to think of Grod and of death, happily
we cannot think too much of it ; but if it is simply the
danger of being killed by the thunder which causes this
excessive apprehension, it is easy to show that this is un
reasonable. For of two thousand persons there is at most
but one killed in this way ; and we may say, indeed, there
is scarcely any violent death which is less common. If,
therefore, the fear of an evil ought to be proportionate, not
only to its magnitude, but also to its probability, as there
is scarcely any kind of death more rare than death from
thunder, there is scarcely anything which ought to occa
sion less fear, — seeing, especially, that fear does not at all
help us to avoid it.

Hence it is not only necessary to undeceive those persons
who take extreme and vexatious precautions for the pre
servation of their life and health, by showing them that
these precautions are a much greater evil, than a danger
so remote as that of the accidents which they fear can be ;
but it is necessary, also, to disabuse all who, in their
undertakings, reason in the following way : — There is
danger in that business ; therefore, it is bad : there is ad
vantage in this ; therefore, it is good : since it is neither
the danger nor the advantage, but the proportion between
them, of which we are to judge.

It is of the nature of finite things, however great they
may be, to be exceeded by the smallest, if often multi
plied ; or if these smallest things exceed the great in pro
bability, more than the great exceed them in magnitude.
Thus the very smallest gain may exceed the greatest which
can be imagined, if the small is often repeated, or if that
great good is so difficult to secure, that it less exceeds the

362 JUDGING OF FUTURE EVENTS.

small in magnitude than the small exceeds it in facility of
attainment ; and the same is true of the evils which we
fear, — that is to say, that the smallest evil may be more
considerable than the greatest which is not infinite, if it
exceed it in this proportion.

It belongs to infinite things alone, as eternity and salva
tion, that they cannot be equalled by any temporal ad
vantage ; and thus we ought never to place them in the
balance with any of the things of the world. This is why
the smallest degree of facility for the attainment of salva
tion is of higher value than all the blessings of the world
put together ; and why the slightest peril of being lost is
more serious than all temporal evils, considered simply as
evils.

This is enough to lead all reasonable persons to come to
this conclusion, with which we will finish this Logic : that
the greatest of all follies is to employ our time and our life
in anything else but that which will enable us to acquire
one which will never end, since all the blessings and evils
of this life are nothing in comparison with those of another ;
and since the danger of falling into these evils, as well as
the difficulty of acquiring these blessings, is very great.

Those who come to this conclusion, and who follow it
out in the conduct of their life, are wise and prudent,
though they reason ill in all the matters of science ; and
those who do not come to it, however accurate they may
be in everything beside, are treated of in the Scripture as
foolish and infatuated, and make a bad use of logic, of
reason, and of life.

THE END.

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